Temptation
by allyelle
Summary: [Historical AU] A young woman, raised within the sanctity of the church, is shunned after committing adultery. Yui Komori must battle this male-dominated world for the repentance of her sin, but with her vengeful husband vowing to find her secret lover, is it possible for a happy ending? After all, a forbidden fruit cannot be tasted without consequence...
1. The Castle Door

**A/N:** Hello!

I didn't think I would be writing for this fandom again, yet here we are...

 _"Temptation"_ is inspired by _"The Scarlet Letter"_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne and the biblical tale of _"The Fall"._ As mentioned in the description, this will be set in a historical AU; mid 17th century if we are being specific. None of the brothers are vampires, but I will do my very best to portray their characters as accurately as possible—Shu's apathy, Ayato's superiority, Subaru's temper, et cetera, et cetera. Also, family circumstances are altered. For example, one brother is not blood-related and some are illegitimate. Nevertheless, you should understand as you read.

In summary for those not familiar with the novel—Yui is pregnant and it has caused a scandal because 1) it is not her husband's child and 2) she is refusing to speak the father's name. The first chapter is similar to the novel, but after this I shall include creative liberties.

Be prepared for a story of forbidden love, tragedy, and lots of sin. Basically some of the routes in DL? O.o

Enjoy! Your reviews will be loved :3

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Diabolik Lovers_ or _The Scarlet Letter,_ nor any associations.

 **allyelle~**

* * *

 _He rode through the streets of the city, down from his hill on high,_

 _over the winds and the steps and the cobbles, he rode to a woman's cry._

 _For she was his secret treasure, she was his shame and his bliss,_

 _and a chain and a keep are nothing, compared to a woman's kiss._

 _For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm..._

 **—'Hands of Gold', A Song of Ice and Fire**

* * *

 **.:. 1 .:.**

 _Was love wrong?_

This thought was the sole occupation of Yui Komori's mind.

With a heart full of guilt, she had ventured to her father's church in the hope of seeking repentance. She kneeled and prayed, her rosary glinting in the candlelight. The rain peppered the roof and trickled down the stained-glass windows, making the crafted angels weep. Her tears fell in unison, darkening the scarlet of her finest dress. A bolt of red fabric was a commodity she could barely afford.

 _"It is not your heart that is wrong, child,"_ said the minister when presented with the question. _"It is your actions upon the emotion which will reveal the ethics."_

By then, it was far too late. Her father's wisdom did little to console her on that rainy afternoon; she was already three months pregnant.

Presently, located at the castle door, a throng of men, faces wreathed in gristly beards and women, huddled in grey cloaks and stark headdresses, brandished their fists and pitchforks. Yui retreated until her back met the door panel. It was spiked in iron and she winced as it sliced the fabric of her bodice. She didn't care for the damage; it was poor material, dull and marled, the true rank of a reverend's daughter.

The castle was the steeple of the village, situated atop the grassy hill, fortified and proud. In the innocence of her youth, she would often clamber up and see the two young boys who called the place home peering out of a turret window with their big, curious eyes, watching as she giggled and dipped her toes in the river. They were in the crowd with their father, a trio of ash and gold, waiting for the trial to begin.

It would be a lengthy procession. Not to judge her guilty; no, that fact alone was confirmed with the swell of her abdomen. It was a procession of ridicule, to make her atone for her sins, to make her realise the foolishness of her actions. Her eyes met his in the crowd, and for a moment, she believed it to be an illusion of witchcraft. Her estranged spouse, feathery black hair shrouding an eye, clothes foreign and torn.

Reiji had impeccable timing. Married young, he was suitable, a little older than her, but he was wise and would provide a safe living. For two comfortable years they made a home in the thatched cottage by the riverbank, until his hunger for curiosity burst his dutiful loyalty for her, setting sail for the undiscovered world in pursuit of modern technology and medicine.

Amidst her sorrow, she found solace in him, the unidentified figure who shared her shame. One morning, in the heat of summer, she was making her way through the forest to visit her father when her cart submerged in a well of mud. It was a small inconvenience, but her husband's departure had taken a toll on her heart and she broke down, her face splotched with sweat and tears. He came with a thunder of hooves and the grace of a smile, offering a hand.

After witnessing her pitiful condition, he formed a ritual of visiting daily. It was a slow flame; hesitant and pure. Evenings by candlelight, the patterns his fingers created against skin, the deepness of his voice as he recited verses and the strum of the lute; a lullaby for loneliness. Six months ago, she received notice of Reiji's death. It was a night of weakness and her only comfort was his lips, his hands and his touch. It was the aftermath of that night which brought her to the castle door—the life swirling inside of her stomach.

"It grieves me," Karl Sakamaki began, his long ash hair billowing over shoulders. He and his two sons were the embodiment of wealth; gold and silver thread wove the fabric of their clothes, the pristine polish of their boots and the poise of their stature. "That such an event should be unfolding upon our land."

The younger uttered an undignified snort. "How moral of you, father. Yet it doesn't _grieve_ you to witness the woman's mockery?"

Despite the richness of his garments, Subaru Sakamaki was unruly by nature. Quick to anger, he was commonly found in taverns initiating brawls with men twice his size. He was stubborn and grounded, respected by people not because of his birth, but because of his being.

Shu, the eldest, was his opposite. He emitted a quiet dignity, composed and careful with words. His eyes were fixated on a slab of stone protruding the grass; he wouldn't intervene.

"It is a great sin," his chest puffed, the pearls glistening in the midday sun. "For a married woman to be unfaithful to her husband!"

Lord Karl was infamous for his views on women. In those golden eyes they were second class citizens, useful only for bearing children and providing husbands with hot meals. Rage threatened to spurt from her lips at the nerve of his hypocrisy. It was widely known of his longtime affair with the tavern's barmaid, Cordelia, with whom he bore three illegitimate sons—Ayato, Kanato and Laito.

The triplets with their rare, vivid hair, were a rainbow amidst the dreary brown attire of the village folk. The smallest, the one who was susceptible to illness during childhood, creased his eyebrows and pursed thin lips. He was labeled as mad with his screeching wails and tantrums. He was the village jest. At twenty-four, the same age as she, it was hard to believe his entrance into adulthood. The other two, hair as fiery as their characters, looked upon her figure with uncomfortable eyes.

Subaru cursed, his voice a low growl, resembling that of a taunted animal. "It's been four fucking years! Reiji's dead!" His gloved hands bundled, jaw square and set. "What be you, Shu? It's stupidity!"

Blue eyes, glazed and distracted, flickered to his brother. "We're all fools... in the eyes of religion."

Swaddled in petticoats, the women bustled forward with their presented chests and puckered lips. They were the housewives; the moral women. The women who clung onto their babies which were conceived in matrimony and not sin.

"Mistress Yui is married, is she not?" One tittered to her companion. "What of her husband?"

"Travelling, but many presume lost at sea."

"Didn't you hear?" An elderly woman joined the gossip, her voice croaked with age. "They _have_ announced Reiji Kasei dead! But no body was found—simply a sword and a heap of blood-stained rags!"

"Is this how she honours her husband's death?"

"Whore!"

"A disgrace!"

Seiji Komori lurched onto the steps, his body a barrier to the women's clawing hands. Once their physical protests had simmered, he turned to face his daughter, his hands anchored to her shoulders. His lip was tremulous, eyes watery and desperate. Her shame had ruined him. He was once a respected man; now his name surfaced images of infidelity.

"Daughter, I beseech you; speak his name! He will be hanged for his crime!"

"I will not," said Yui, her tone hushed yet equally defiant. "I refuse."

The crowd gasped and exploded into a series of whispers. The reverend raised a hand to silence them, and for a fleeting moment, Yui believed he was about to strike her. But his gentle nature overtook him and a shaking arm lowered to his side.

"Foolish girl! You have no right to refuse!"

"In this society, a woman has little rights. But if she possesses a powerful mind, it can never be swayed. I will not speak his name _—_ not until my last breath!"

"You feel loyalty for this man?"

"My only loyalty is love," Yui replied, and with a sigh, she returned her attention to the distant line of cottages. "Father, do with me what you will. I spare him and take the blame onto myself."

Her gaze found his in the crowd and she implored him to keep his silence. There was pain in his eyes; a whirlpool of guilt, sorrow and regret. If someone were to stare into them directly, he would be revealed at once. They lowered to the earth, their secret heavy upon his heart.

"Child, your foolishness is masked by bravery!"

Her hand rested upon the bump of cotton. "Maybe so. But love is a fools game."

"Idiot," Subaru slapped a palm to his forehead, trapping disheveled strands. "You aren't exactly rendering your case!"

Yui's eyes crinkled at his defense, a solitary finger pressed against her lips to shush him.

"Spare us, Subaru," Shu murmured, whacking the back of his head. The youngest snarled and raised his fists, but Shu remained indifferent to a flare in his temper. "Your voice is rousing the crows," he emitted a weary sigh and turned to his father. "When is this ordeal over? It's tiresome..." he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can feel a headache. A troubling thought with the amount of paperwork I have to do."

Karl tutted, and with a head shake at his heir's lack of enthusiasm, turned back to his conversation with a village official.

"That stupid imp isn't even defending herself!" Subaru continued, earning himself stares of suspicion. His brother roughly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to the side. Subaru released strings of expletives and snatched out of his grip.

"Unhand me, bastard _—_!"

"Leave it," Shu warned, voice low and cutting. "Or are you adamant on tying your own noose? The woman can handle herself without your intervention."

"But _—_!"

"I have my suspicions." His eyes skirted to the colourful trio with their newly arrived lilac-haired mother. "As do we all. But she obviously has her reasons... no matter how selfish they seem."

Subaru followed his drifting stare. "What can we do?"

"What else can the helpless do?"

His lips twisted into a grimace as he focused upon the castle door. It was a striking contrast; a petite woman whose appearance radiated innocence, features as fresh as the first bud of spring. Yet the dark, towering panel haunted her. It served as a reminder to the black taint enclosed within her heart.

Shu turned back towards his brother. "Sit back and watch the storm unfold..."

 **.:.**

Yui Komori's procession lasted for the better part of five hours. The sky had turned dusky, a blanket of navy and diamonds. There was a chill in the air, only to be strengthened by the rural landscape and height of the castle. The girl had been sent home with the disdainful stares of the village burned into her conscience.

Reverend Komori released a hefty sigh and steadied his trembling lip as he descended the slope. He would pray for God's forgiveness. Some of the evil lay within him. Perhaps things would have turned out differently if her mother had survived childbirth; a woman's touch would have tamed her free spirit.

He had hoped, that through his arrangement of marriage to the clever and respected doctor, Reiji Kasei, it would give her structure and stability. It was not a match of love, but it was nonetheless a kind and affectionate match after a year had passed. From the minister's acquaintance with the man, he was mild-tempered and eloquent with a thirst for knowledge. This was his downfall. His loyalties lay in the undiscovered, not in creating a home with his daughter. If they hadn't of married, she wouldn't have been labeled as an adulteress.

Guilt welled within him; he was partially to blame for the scorn she endured at the castle door.

"Reverend Komori!" A voice bellowed, accent laced with all formalities familiar to the upper-class. "Might I have a word?"

Seiji locked onto the golden eyes of Karl Sakamaki. "Of course, sir."

"It concerns your daughter."

"Indeed," he laughed humourlessly. "The topic does not surprise me."

"Then you should know, my dear fellow, that further action must be discussed!"

He flinched and fisted a hand around the wooden cross hanging from his neck. "Has the child not suffered enough? She is naive! Simply besotted! I believe her ridicule today should be a just punishment."

"On the contrary, minister!" A hand clasped onto his shoulder, the force almost shattering the frail man. "Do you know what man lingered in the crowd today?"

"I do not. Of whom do you speak?"

"It was none other than Reiji Kasei, alive and well!"

 **.:.**

A knock upon her cottage door roused her from slumber. Her palms straightened the creases in her nightgown and she tread barefoot over the cold stone and opened the door with a creak. Nothing greeted her but the howls of the wind and the song of cicadas. Believing it to be a cruel trick from a gaggle of misfits, she attempted to close the door when a pebble was tossed to her feet. Lowering her eyes, they were met with a thatched basket holding scarlet apples.

Yui stifled a laugh. "Did you venture here with the intention of stoning me to death?" Her eyes roamed the forest clearing, hoping to spot a flash of hair concealed within the shrubbery. "I cannot see you, but I know that it's you."

Another pebble was thrown, colliding against her toes. She hopped with pain and frowned. "You are angry with me _—_ "

A rock, the size of a tomato, whacked the brick of the house, crumbling stone and layering the blades with dust. Yui gasped and wrapped arms around her stomach. "I understand, you are _very_ angry with me—"

Several more pebbles were thrown, missing her by mere inches. His aim was perfect; he wanted to scare not hurt her. But it was late and her patience was running thin.

"I bid you goodnight!" she declared, and with a huff, the door was slammed.

For a while, her back leaned against the panel, listening to the rhythm of her breathing against the silence of night. Suddenly, footsteps crunched the branches outside. Something slid underneath the gap in the wood and tickled her feet. It was a piece of parchment inscribed with a simple message.

 _Keep a strong head, Cricket._


	2. Apples and Crickets

**.:. 2 .:.**

To them, she has always been a cricket. A strange creature with unrelenting energy and laughter as chipper as the insects song, Yui would spend her afternoons away from the church hopping the stones protruding the riverbank. Shu and Subaru would peep from a castle window and watch her with timid curiosity, but if she caught their eye, they would startle and shrink into darkness. They rarely ventured outside the grounds, and when they did so, they were accompanied by a nanny who frowned upon her free spirit.

It was autumn then, and the village was bustling with the preparations for the Harvest Festival. The surroundings were bathed in a dye of copper and red; the decomposing leaves of the forest pines and the golden hay scattered across the fields. The sun had peaked and the stone turrets became yellow and shadowed, yet the two brothers' silhouettes were absent. The eldest, eleven at the time, would have been dragged into town to learn the proper way of conducting business. The younger, she presumed, would have followed.

Karl Sakamaki's first wife, Lady Beatrix, had died in an accident many years prior; but there had been speculation of foul play as the lord's fickle affections had drifted to another. The White Lady, as Christa was more commonly known, made rarer appearances than the sons. Unpredictable, her temperament shifted with the weather. Rumours had spiraled that she, too, had died and only her distressed ghost remained. Forever a prisoner of the castle, her wails would echo down from the hill.

Yui, lost in a daydream of fire-breathing dragons and captive-towers, failed to notice their presence by the riverbank until Subaru, then a boy of only six, stomped his foot and screamed. It was apparent that he had tried to attract her attention for some time.

 _"You cricket! What's wrong with you? Do you ever stop moving?"_

Perched on the balls of her feet, she twirled to face them. Subaru's small, pudgy hands were bundled into fists while rounded cheeks puffed with a pout. His breathing was strained and his face was flushed from exertion. Shu was similar; his golden hair a disarray, the luxuriant navy and red of his garbs torn and splashed with mud. They had taken the shortcut through the forest, and by their appearances, they were fleeing from their guardians.

 _"You! Are you going to answer me?"_

The child was spoilt and undisciplined. Yui skipped the stones until her toes brushed blades of grass.

 _"My name is Yui Komori, young sir, and you will do well to remember it!"_

Shu's wide-eyed gaze snapped from his brother to her, his sudden burst of hysterical laughter rising above the gushing water. He clutched his stomach and toppled backwards onto the grass; he looked like he was being mercilessly tickled by a ghost. Subaru flunked down beside him, whined and punched his arm. Shu exclaimed with pain as he regained control of his breathing, lolling forwards to face her confusion.

Yui kneeled and rested palms upon the shape of her thighs. _"Did... did I say something?"_

 _"You... h_ _ave not a care in the world."_ He wore a tiny smile, crinkles formed in the corners of blue. _"Most run from my brother's temper."_

 _"He is far too little to scare me."_

Subaru sat cross-legged and was looking up at his foliage-embedded hair. He spluttered once he registered her remark, his cheeks scarlet with fury.

 _"L-Lady, I heard that!"_

Yui giggled, finding his vexed expression one of endearment. He sulked from her laughter and turned his back to them, his fingers ripping out needles of grass. Shu stared at her with a fractional tilt of head, as though she was an object of the utmost fascination. She blushed under his gaze and twirled the stem of a daisy.

 _"And why, for so long, have you spied upon me from the window?"_

 _"Hm...? Spying?"_ His words drawled with mischief. _"We were simply looking out of our window. It is you who is trespassing."_

She startled at the fact. Thoroughly embarrassed, she rose, brushing the dirt from her skirt. _"Um... I... I'm sorry..."_

Yui turned and sprinted down the hill, but Shu's voice managed to reach her. _"Put shoes on your feet tomorrow! They are going to get all cut up, Cricket Girl!"_

Children did not concern themselves with trivial things such as rank, and from that day onward, the trio became close friends. During the rainy season, they would retreat to the stables with stacks of books and Shu would read to them. He created worlds of fantasy and wonder from his glittering imagination, his blue eyes as radiant as the sun.

He became a patient teacher when he realised her poor education, improving her grammar and mathematics. Subaru always held an interest with swords, and after a while, acting as the damsel became tedious. He taught her how to wield while Shu, unimpressed, would play a sombre tune on a lute and wait at the top of the hill for his two young rescuers.

As the years passed, the river currents strengthened and they took refuge under the canopy of the apple tree. The presence of Shu diminished with the pressure from his father, and they continually saw his hunched silhouette and his ink-stained hands in the arched window. Those hands were forged for instruments, not for cramping from the grip of a quill.

He carried the future of the Sakamaki name upon his shoulders and it weighed heavily upon his spirit. Years of monotonous work had woven a fibre of apathy into his being while duty ironed out childhood jubilance.

Yui and Subaru grew closer in their bubble of adolescent freedom.

The brothers grew into handsome men and maidens vied for their affections. Subaru, despite his brash exterior, possessed a shy and gentle heart. He was suspicious to their motives and believed they were only interested in his wealth. He had low self-esteem stemmed from years of his mother's mental punishment. But the women were not infatuated with him because of his status; he was a protector and a figure of safety. He was a knight of unruly character.

If any man gave a girl trouble, he would be the first to intervene and escort them home. The same way he came to her defense at the castle door.

Shu remained indifferent. He entertained only the prettiest of maidens until their lackluster personalities morphed painted faces. Karl Sakamaki would not approve of any match for his heir unless their status leveled or surpassed theirs. So his heart was locked and guarded, and no one, it seemed, owned the key. He could be charming and flirtatious if the mood suited him; drawn out whispers and quirked lips and in his wake would be a trail of broken hearts.

Yui rotated a scarlet apple in her palm when her cottage door was thrown open. The gust of air fluttered her skirts and splayed blonde tresses across her face. Stood in the doorway was Reiji. He had changed into clean clothing while the hair which cloaked an eye was combed back, revealing an ugly vertical scar across his cheekbone.

She couldn't breathe. At the castle door, she believed him a fragment of her torment. But he was a physical entity, blocking the outside light.

"R-Reiji," her voice was feeble. "I was not expecting _—_ "

"Could anyone have been? Indeed... your surprise is sorely evident by your," his mouth pulled in distaste. _"Condition."_

He straightened his posture and dusted invisible dirt from his jacket. His mannerisms hadn't altered, but something within those blood-red eyes had shifted. They had been as clear as a pool of water, rippling and gleaming whenever he inhabited his study. Now they were clouded and cold, like the climate before a storm.

His study remained untouched. She rarely entered when they lived together _—_ only to call him to dinner or to let him know if she was going out. He would give her a distracted hum in acknowledgement or a fleeting smile, eyes magnetically pulled back to his work. Shelves were lined with books and herbs while parchment and quills littered desks and surfaces. The dust would be thick after four years.

"I believed you dead!" she shrieked, tears hurdling over every curve on her face. "I mourned you!"

"Is that the case?" he mocked. "Then amidst your _grave_ despair, you thought it suitable to move on to another?" His thumb and forefinger pinched his chin. "My, you are a cruel woman."

"He was my only comfort during your absence," Yui murmured, her nails digging into the apple skin. "If you hadn't left, I needn't of searched."

He regarded her for a moment and his calmness frightened her, as though waiting for an animal to pounce. Striding towards the dining table, he plucked an apple from the basket and lifted his arm so the rosy shell bathed in sunshine.

"Ah," his lips had a secretive curve. "The famous red of the Sakamaki apples."

"Subaru Sakamaki is my oldest friend," she defended. "Do not forget, he brought me similar gifts when we were married."

"It seems that _you_ have forgotten, _dear one,"_ his hand caressed her cheek and she shivered; it was not the warmth of his touch. "We are married still."

"I am widowed," said Yui, turning and opening the draw of the bureau _—_ careful not to scatter secret letters from him _—_ and pulled out the certificate of Reiji Kasei's death. She extended the scroll with a hand placed protectively over her stomach.

He roughly snatched it from her and tossed it aside, clasping her face between his fingers. Yui squeaked with pain, but she pursed her lips and forced herself not to crumble underneath his stare.

"Am I truly a ghost to you?" His grip tightened, his nails scratching her cheek. "Was I so easy to forget?"

Yui pushed his wrist and staggered out of his hold. "I waited for you for three years! Must I be punished for loving another?"

"You are my wife." He inched closer, his figure towering hers as she backed up against the wall. "You belong to me."

"I belong to nobody," she said, hands knotted to ease their trembling. "Nothing shall own me but the results of my own foolishness."

Reiji took a backwards step and gave a humourless laugh. "I am the most intrigued... did your lover appreciate the company of such a headstrong woman?"

"I believe," she mumbled, "he thought me rather humorous."

Her careless words broke his restraint. He had masked his true feelings through eloquence and poise, but his eyes had finally revealed him in a scarlet fire of malevolence.

"Insolent woman! Speak his name at once!"

"Never!"

"You have done well to discard of my name, Yui Komori! For you have shamed it!"

A whipping sound coursed through the air and she was blinded as his hand struck her cheek. She collapsed onto the ground with the force, the bitter taste of blood upon her lips. Shaking, she lifted her arm to wipe the red smear, cupping her palm to nurse the bruised skin.

It was common practice for husbands to beat their wives for disobedient behaviour. Black eyes and swollen lips were not a subject of scandal, but the reality of daily life. Yui believed herself lucky. Reiji had never physically harmed her; he would chide her with words in a battle of wits. Occasionally, if she had particularly irked him, his punishment would be sly and cunning. Slipping mildly harmful herbs into tea, resulting in a day of sickness, or locking her outside in the rain so she was forced to take shelter in the barn. However this assault only confirmed him a changed man. What had he endured during those four years of absence?

"Reiji... what happened to you?"

His back faced her, voice quiet and frosty. "It seems that we have both lost our way."

She heaved herself to her feet and clung onto the frame of a chair to steady the dizziness. "I am sorry for making you ashamed. But I will not apologise for my heart."

He spun to face her once more, their noses millimeters apart. He wore the smile of a devil and her blood ran cold. "I promise you this," he said, a finger jabbing into her collarbone. "I will find him. And when I do, I will _destroy_ him."

It was only when the door closed behind him did her wall of bravery finally crumble.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey... um, apologies for taking a month to update D: I've had this and a few other chapters written up for awhile, but due to basic laziness, I didn't get around to proof reading them. Nonetheless, thank you for your reviews and for your favourites and follows!

On an unrelated note, this story will be littered with flashbacks (past speech will always be in _italics)_ about Yui's history with all of the brothers. Instead of Shu becoming depressed over the "death" of "Edgar" I decided to make him a happy, normal child who becomes tired of life due to the pressure from KarlHeinz and his role as the heir. Subaru's backstory is the same. He has unresolved issues with his mother and struggles with self-loathing and aggression.

In terms of ages, Yui is the same age as the triplets (like in the games/anime) and is two years younger than Shu. I know it's not canon, but for story purposes, I imagine Reiji as older and Subaru as much younger.

Basically _—_

Reiji: 28

Shu: 26

Yui: 24

Triplets: 24

Subaru: 21

Thanks for reading! I'll try to post the next chapter as soon as possible :)

 **allyelle~**


	3. Kanato's Gift

**.:. 3 .:.**

Dimly lit and cramped, the tavern was the underworld of the village. From the cobwebbed beams hung an iron-wrought chandelier, the waning candles dripping wax and flickering with the draft. Barrels of ale and mead were stacked beside the unlit hearth while the long, wooden tables were inhabited by men from all walks of life: farmers, blacksmiths, and huddled in the gloom, a high-ranking lord and a handful of his trusted associates.

Except for the owner herself and her employed prostitutes, the establishment was devoid of women. The ladies of the night, who had long ago adjusted to the crudeness of language and behaviour, roamed freely with their pinched corsets and rouged lips, wriggling onto the laps of men who would pay a pretty penny for a night of fun.

Cordelia, as beautiful as she was cunning, maintained a perfect balance of femininity and superiority as she delivered a tray of pewter-mugs and pitchers to a table of dirt-dusted peasants. A woman she may be, but men knew of her entanglement with Lord Karl Sakamaki, and they also knew of her short temper. They daren't cross the woman who supplied them with beer and a bed-warmer.

"Woman!" beckoned the only man who Cordelia wouldn't reprimand for the demeaning call. She turned, her waist-length lilac tresses whipping around her frame.

"My Lord?" said she with a coy smile. Meeting his gaze, she arched her back to present her chest. "Are you in need of further refreshments?"

Karl Sakamaki's golden eyes glinted as he raked her curvaceous figure. If she painted her face, and her hair was unkempt, she could easily pass as a prostitute. The short hem of her skirt and the low-cut of her puffed, white blouse, left little to the imagination. She shifted, then, swishing fabric to flash the paleness of an ankle.

He reclined with a crooked slant to his lips. "That much is obvious, my dear. Or does my teasing woman enjoy to see us men parched?"

"You speak such folly, dearest! And what money would I make if all of you men were parched?"

"Why," began a fellow from her lover's table _—_ with a pheasant-feather cap and a long beard _—_ grabbing one of the roaming ladies and planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She giggled, and with a half-hearted swat, sashayed away. "With the well-spent gold from a night with the likes of her!"

The men laughed and Cordelia, with a shake of her head, searched the tavern for her eldest son. Ayato was soon spotted, his fiery hair vibrant even under the cloaked candlelight. He was at a gamblers table, and by his hunched, despondent form, he had lost his stakes.

"C'mon, hand it over," said his opponent with a heavy, lilted accent, inclining his head to the pouch of gold he was attempting to conceal. "Won it fair and square I did."

Ayato cursed under his breath. "Round two!" he demanded, slamming a fist and rattling the abundance of empty cups. "It wasn't in Yours Truly's favour! The table's uneven! Look _—_ the dice caught the groove!"

He made a lunge for the bone-chiselled die, but the man was quicker. He encircled it in his palm and rose, gesturing for his prize once more. But Ayato, in his obstinate ways, still refused to face the reality of his loss.

"Like hell I'll give you this!"

Ayato stood and looped the pouch through a belt-hole. It jangled at the slightest movement.

The man gritted his teeth and withdrew an object from his side. Silver and sharp, the dagger glimmered as he held it high and turned it under a hot, dying wick. "Best not to test me, boy. I'll slash that throat of yours so quick you won't have time to beg for mercy!"

Ayato clenched his fists and inched closer, levelling the man in height and in stare. "Try it!"

He raised a daggered hand, but with a gasp, Cordelia rushed over to put a halt to their dispute. "Put that thing away!" she hissed. "Here, you greedy soul," she snatched the gold from her son and tossed it to the man. "Now get out!"

He smirked with victory. "Still getting your old mother to fight your battles, _Yours Truly?"_ He spoke Ayato's self-proclaimed title with drawled mockery. "Nice doin' business with you!"

He waved with the back of his hand and finally exited the tavern. Ayato growled with frustration, stepping forwards to follow him outside and to challenge him to a fight, no doubt, but Cordelia grabbed him by the ear and pulled him down to her petite height.

"You stupid little fool!" she spat, dragging him from view behind the stack of barrels.

"Are you _aware_ of the value of money? Does the upkeep of this place _—_ this _place_ which keeps you fed and watered and sheltered mean nothing to you? Don't you wish to be like them?" She craned to the table where her lover and his heir situated, all ruffled collars and fine jewellery. "Don't you wish to see your poor mother a rich wife rather than a lowly spinster?"

She softened then, and sighed, a hand caressing his cheek. He flinched, knowing her gentleness was as fleeting as a summer breeze. "Worthless creature. Where has my best boy gone?"

It was unfair how he was shackled with fruitless responsibility. He could never become the best in his mother's eyes, because he knew, and _she_ knew, that deep down, he could never become the Sakamaki heir. If something were to befall upon Shu, then Subaru would next be crowned. Ayato was an illegitimate, impossible hope.

He risked a sideward glance towards his brother, Laito, who was stumbling up the stairs to his quarters with several of the tavern's prostitutes in tow. The fickle romancer that he was, he had countless bastards running around the streets with his red-hair and green-eyes. With his reputation, many assumed that he had also fathered the Komori bastard, and when questioned, he would laugh and wink, unhelping to disperse of the rumours surrounding him.

"Sorry," Ayato mumbled, hoping to mask his insincerity. "I'll do better next time."

"You will, because otherwise, you'll be sleeping outside with the _dogs."_ Cordelia gathered a tray of beer into her hands and thrust it into his. "Take these to your father, and be impressionable and polite, or I'll have your _head."_

Ayato's knuckles were white around the metal tray; it took everything within him to hold his tongue.

He arrived at their table under a window, chilly and shadowed by the night-time gloom. It was in the back of the tavern, in a secluded nook, easily overlooked and undisturbed.

With his nervous stare, Reverend Komori felt out of place wearing his conservative church robes, the stench of liquor twisting his sensitive stomach.

Shu, the only member with the decency to spare Ayato a nod of acknowledgement, sat with a bored, lidded gaze, hands curled around his neck. He was sleep deprived; black creased under his eyes, each breath a deep and weary sigh.

As the days passed since his return, Reiji Kasei grew to match his scholarly appearance from years before. He was smartly dressed _—_ nothing to compare to the latest fashions and the priceless gems donned by his superiors _—_ with a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. He was stoic with an erect posture, and it was clear, by the slight crinkle of his nose, that he scorned his surroundings.

Karl Sakamaki, who glowed with wealth under the reflection of moonbeams, busied himself in a discussion with an elderly village official. He could have held their meeting in one of the many lavishly adorned rooms of his castle. Yet, on a social scale, his woman's tavern fared better. With endless supplies of ale and the company of amoral women, more men were inclined to join him in his pursuit for justice.

Cursing his forced employment, Ayato carelessly dropped the drinks onto the table. Amber liquid overflowed the mugs, sloshing onto the wooden surface and soaking his father's expensive robes. Shu met his gaze with a languid smile and slipped him a handful of coins under the shroud of his cloak. It was much more than the price of the ale, but for a little entertainment derived from their father's misfortune, it was worth the parting.

"Hey," Shu whispered. "Try not to get stabbed next time..."

Ayato snorted. "As if! Yours Truly had him, alright."

Shu faced forward, watching as Cordelia shrieked and bustled over with a saccharine voice and fussing hands.

"Uh," Ayato cleared his throat. He was uncomfortable, and often, he reminded the heir of Subaru, with their quick temper and unrelenting arrogance. "Thanks," he murmured almost inaudibly, before stalking away to avoid the wrath of his mother.

Karl, now in a sour mood, swatted Cordelia away. She would be fetched when her company was wanted.

"My Lord?" an official piped. "You called an urgent meeting?"

Hands, glimmering with rings of ruby and gold, swiped a pewter and took a swig, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. Emitting an aura of power, he reclined against the chair and gestured to his subordinates.

"Indeed! I am certain that we are all aware of the recent case with the Komori girl, charged with the crime of adultery?"

Nodding heads and whispers confirmed his statement.

"The nerve of the woman!"

"A complete lack of respect! The girl has no morals!"

"Her accomplice should be punished! He shares the blame!"

"Quiet!" Karl Sakamaki bellowed, his mug smashing and indenting the surface, like a judge's small wooden mallet. The gossiping men were silenced at once. "Men, you must keep a level head! It is imperative to discuss further action, but firstly, I would like to welcome back the good doctor, Reiji Kasei. Impeccable yet disastrous timing, I must say. Good sir, with your sudden return, your lodgings must be unsuitable. Where are you residing?"

"Upstairs, in this very tavern," Reiji replied as his eyes skirted upwards. His lips were thin and strained, as though fighting a frown. "They are satisfactory and I have no major qualms, but if your lordship has any recommendations until I am able to gain a permanent residence, I would be obliged to hear it."

"Why, you must stay at the castle! With what you must have been through... well, I should like to hear it once the wounds are not as fresh. I shall arrange a room for you at once."

"Your kindness is appreciated," his head bowed to conceal a smile. "I accept. Thank you."

"No matter, no matter," he waved hands in dismissal. "Now, I am aware of the sensitivity of the subject, but what are your plans? Do you intend to mend the relationship between yourself and Mistress Komori? Or..."

"Divorce is an option I would like to discuss," he left no room for debate, his thumb circling the metal rim of the cup. "Surely you can see my predicament."

"Divorce," mumbled the reverend with equal fright and disapproval. "God will not look kindly upon you, sir," he spoke to no one in particular, but with the rowdy noise of the tavern, none heard his words.

"Married to an adulteress?" A man with small, wrinkled eyes and a face shadowed by a cocked beaver-hat, joined the conversation. "Why, nobody can blame you! The shame must weigh heavy upon you!"

"Indeed," Reiji sighed. "I cannot be joined to a woman who is anything less than perfect."

Shu Sakamaki, who for the past two hours focused only upon not drifting into sleep, spoke up. Many men snapped their heads to the sound, stunned by the willing speech of their young master. He was always quiet when attending meetings with his father. He only spoke when spoken to, or in rare matters such as these. It wasn't out of intimidation or lack of opinion; no, it was sheer indifference.

"Perfect... what a joke," he laughed, but it held no humour. A hand was held to meet his gaze, the rose quartz ring circling his little finger reflecting the candlelight with a gleam. "If you expect such high standards... you will only live for disappointment."

"Conversely," Reiji challenged, "if you only aim for low standards, you will never behold greatness."

"Did you think her perfect," he finally lifted his eyes to meet red. "In her white dress?"

"Of course. But alas! I was blinded by beauty to see the taint waiting to flourish within. You did not attend our wedding, I remember."

"No," Shu snatched his drink. "I had a prior engagement."

"Yes, that is always the case," his voice rung with mock understanding. "The two of you used to be well acquainted with one another, hm?"

"That is common knowledge. She was my childhood friend…" A small crease settled between his brows, ignoring the snobbish scoff by his father at his lowly choice of companion. "My brother still holds the girl in the highest esteem."

"My daughter was once loved by everyone who beheld her," said the minister with an exhale and a wistful smile. "Like her mother, she is kind and loyal beyond sense."

Shu regarded the man, his stony expression softening at the edges. He liked the minister, despite his weak disposition, for he had always treated him and his brother well. He remembered the occasions when they had escaped their nannies in town and were desperately seeking refuge. Yui, who watched them through a gap in the door, would call upon her father to assist her friends. Reverend Komori, with a laugh and a head shake, would pull them into the church with a solitary finger pressed against his lips.

 _"Oh, my daughter,"_ said the minister with a groan as he rose from his knees, hands dusted with soot from the newly lighted hearth. _"One day you are going to get me in trouble for your loyalties!"_

His reprimand was light, for soon after he poured three cups of milk and Subaru split his honey-bread, stolen from the castle kitchens.

 _"Don't worry, papa,"_ Yui had reassured, giving Subaru a cheeky, but thankful grin for the food. Shu stared at her, slowly chewing his bread as he watched the flames dance across her face. _"I'll take full responsibility for them."_

"What is the reason for your distance?"

Shu was snapped out of his reverie with the doctor's question.

"You are an unrelenting man… do you intend to hold an interrogation?" Shu stood abruptly, knocking the table as he did so, the ale from his pewter sloshing and dribbling onto the floor.

At dawn, when the tavern emptied and the barrel-taps shut off, rats would come and wet their noses in the puddle, hunting for scraps of meat and breadcrumbs. Kanato would come down the stairs with a broom and a wicked smile, breaking their tiny bones and swatting them through the door. There was no need for a cat.

"I cannot bare this… father, I'm leaving," he turned and gestured to a young boy with muck smeared across his cheeks. "You, fetch my horse."

The small boy nodded and scrambled outside. "Yes'r!"

Shu attempted to follow suit when Reiji's stool screeched, his voice halting him in his tracks.

"Only the guilty will refuse an answer."

He slowly swivelled to face the estranged doctor with the narrowing of eyes, holding his stare in a stubborn, silent battle.

"Good sir!" one of his father's associates exclaimed. "Surely you cannot be accusing the young master of _—"_

Shu lifted a hand to silence him. "We grew up and grew apart. Does it satisfy you?"

Reiji's eyes glinted, lips curved with the intention to provoke. "Unless you have a reason why it would not?"

He released a sigh and closed his eyes, palm pressed against his forehead to ease the awakening of a throbbing ache. "I am not playing this tiresome game… it does little to interest me. So only naturally… I shall find something that does."

"Or somebody, perhaps?"

"Correct," he matched the taunt of his smile with a weak one of his own. "My brother, despite his delinquency, does provide me with _some_ entertainment."

Karl Sakamaki rose, furious, unaccustomed to disrespect. "Shu! I forbid you to leave this table!"

Shu, in no mood to entertain suspicion or his father's moral code, rummaged in his waistcoat pocket and slammed down a handful of gold. "Buy your woman a new corset," he said as his gaze flitted to the man's mistress. "It seems, by her escaping _dignity,_ that she has long outgrown it."

Cordelia heard his remark and her lips puckered, hands bent to the unnatural curve of her waist. "Oh, you insolent creature!"

Ignoring the call of his name, Shu wove through the crowds and stopped to engage in a brief conversation with the musicians.

"Stop," he cringed. "I do not believe men venture here to listen to nails on a chalkboard..." he grabbed their violin. "Here... see?" he pointed to the tuning pegs and the fingerboard. "You haven't tuned it... and a string is missing."

He shook his head and with his best efforts, began tweaking the strings before returning the instrument. "Get it repaired," insisted Shu, and with bubbling protest on the man's lips, he added _—_ "On me," and a shower of coins fell into the musician's palm.

Shu, with a lightened pouch, had begun to feel like a charitable benefactor. He frowned; that hadn't been his intention.

"Coming here is bothersome, but it is truly insufferable when my ears begin to bleed." He turned towards the door, but with a look over his shoulder, he forced a half-smile. "You have talent... just try not to soil the only good thing in this world."

Finally, he left the tavern with the swing of the door, the golden, melodic notes echoing his virtuosity.

"They are spoilt," the Lord's knuckles stretched white around the handle of the mug. "They do not appreciate what I have given them on a silver platter."

Cordelia sashayed over, swinging her legs over his lap. Her skirt ruched, revealing a peep of pale skin. Many of the men gawked, but with a glare from golden eyes, their mouths snapped shut.

"Darling," the back of her hand caressed his face. "My sons are good boys. They would have made you fine heirs."

"That may be the case, my dear, if we had been married." He kissed her neck to silence her foolish tongue, fingers running along her bare collarbone. "Now, go and wait for me upstairs. There is a matter which needs to be discussed. It has no business to be intervened upon by a woman."

The barmaid _—_ like many women of the day _—_ was frustrated by the inferior view of her sex. But her lover had power, money and status, and a woman who conspired with such a man was sure to benefit. She had given him more sons than either of his wives, still, due to her lowly rank, he refused to marry her. She was not of a noble bloodline like Beatrix and Christa. The only thing she owned was the tavern.

In his eyes, she was a beautiful peasant who entertained him after nightfall. Conversely, Cordelia loved him. It was not love at first sight. In the beginning, she used him only for her own personal gain. But after the birth of the triplets, her heart wandered to him, and it wandered still, for he would not ground it.

With one last lingering kiss, Cordelia winked and disappeared upstairs.

"Now," Karl began, straightening his robes. "Forgetting the behaviour of my son, shall we discuss further action?"

But before any could speak, the small figure of Kanato snuck up to the table. His sudden appearance frightened many, as quiet as a slinking cat in the dead of night. The boy tilted his head, eyes locked onto his father, blazing with the ache to be recognised.

"Boy! You will do well to announce your presence!"

"Hello father." He disregarded the Lord's scolding, smile as honeyed and as practiced as his mother's. "I may have an answer for your predicament concerning the village whore."

A spark was ignited in gold, his forefinger gesturing for him to come forward, and by extension, to take the stool previously inhabited by Shu. Kanato, radiant at being invited to the table, took a pewter and sipped the ale, regret immediately twisting his features. It was bitter and disliked by his sugary tongue.

"Enlighten us! Speak of your proposal!"

"The woman is to wear a mark of her shame," he spoke each word with continual giddiness. "The letter 'A', for adulteress! A constant reminder for all to see!"

 **.:.**

A pounding of hooves crunched leaves and snapped branches on the forest floor. It was dangerous to ride at such a late hour; neither he nor his steed could foresee a ditch or a fallen trunk. They were galloping blind. Reflecting, it would have been sensible of him to borrow a lantern from the tavern to illuminate the path. But Shu Sakamaki knew this shortcut since childhood; every bend, every incline and every tree was ingrained into his memory.

The route followed the riverbank, and a little before the castle situated a cottage. It was quaint, with a thatched roof and an adjacent barn and a small pen to section poultry. From her care, flowers grew in wild, colourful arrangements, attracting bees and butterflies during the summer months. It was a fairies glen _—_ secretive and alluring.

Officially, the dwelling was part of the castle. Yui Komori and her husband had rented it from them, but during his absence, she struggled with the payments. The girl was prideful, refusing help and insisting that she earned enough money from her needlework.

However his father eventually noticed the lack of transactions and demanded that as he was the eldest son, it was his duty to deliver the news of her repossession. Without her knowledge, he paid the gold to his father without missing a deadline. Money was nothing to him; it was as common as the mud caked underneath his boots.

Shu tugged back the reins, his horse rearing at the sudden decision to stop. The cottage peeped through the foliage and out shone a small glow of a flickering candle. He pushed on his steed to tread the path further, and he could see the Komori girl sat cross-legged on the grass, nestled into a shawl of dusky pink with the spine of a book balanced on the bump of her stomach. It was by the work of Shakespeare _—_ one of the leather-bound editions he and Subaru had gifted her with in childhood.

"Must you kick me?" she spoke, seemingly to the air. "After all I have done for you, little one..." she laughed, but the sound was sad. "It is only a few more months until I am able to meet you, then things will be alright. People may hate us, and they may shame and outcast us, but I will love you more," her words were strangled with tears. "And I will tell you wondrous stories of your father before you go to sleep at night, and you will have the most beautiful dreams. I... I promise."

She was not the fearless, immoral vixen many believed her to be at the castle door. Amidst the wildflowers, the candlelight bathed her in an orange softness, quiet whimpers revealing the fragility of her heart. She was a woman who loved with all she had and lost. Curled up underneath the stars with a narrative of tragedy, she reassured her consolation prize of a better life.

There was an unexpected chill in the air, striking his pale cheeks and diminishing her light. With a shake of his head, he nudged his horse and cantered into the wilderness. As Shu neared the castle grounds, the vastness of the trees thinned, revealing a worn dirt-path from the many journeys of carriages. Meeting his ears was the whipping sound of a sword, heavy breathing and strings of expletives.

He was mildly curious as to why Subaru was slashing at a tree with murderous intent. His brother's horse _—_ black and untameable _—_ snorted and bucked, grinding a hoof into the ground. Their temperaments twinned.

Sliding from his ride, Shu circled the reins around a trunk. His ride _—_ a squeamish mare _—_ cowered away from the stallion. He soothed it with a nose-rub.

"Defenceless thing... could the tree have offended you? You never miss an opportunity to create havoc... if you were not that man's son, you would no doubt be caged behind bars."

With a sigh, Shu flopped down beside his horse, the crown of his head resting against the tree. Subaru did not acknowledge his presence by sheathing the sword; he swung it at the earth, scattering leaves like a shower of rain.

"Cricket," he mumbled, voice shaking with anger. "You should have seen her face! I'm going to slaughter that man!"

"Man?" Shu cracked open an eye, a finger itching down his restrictive collar. "What... man?"

"What man!" Subaru mocked as he resumed his violent thrashes, the bark splintering off in chunks. "Her bastard husband, that's who!"

"He is still unpleasant," his mouth twisted at the thought of the doctor. "He was at the tavern earlier... father, wearing his moral façade, has invited him to stay..." he paused, and with a bitter laugh, he added _—_ "He is suspicious... but he is wasting his time with me."

Subaru's eyes flashed. He stabbed the weapon into the dirt and spun to face his brother. "You... do you not care? That imp is our oldest friend! He hit her! The things she is going through—!"

"She is your friend, Subaru... it has little to concern me with."

"You have not forgiven her," he realised with an echo of disbelief. Slowly, his temper returned and his hands bundled and his teeth grit. "Six years, and you have not forgiven her!"

Without a word, Shu rose and unbounded his horse. "You are just as vexing as that man," said he, mounting without sparing him a glance. "I'm going home... your noise has worsened my headache."

"Shu!" cried Subaru, slamming a fist against the trunk. "Answer me!"

He set his jaw and tightened his grip on the reins, guiding the horse in the direction of the castle. "She was wrong," he murmured. "And only now, through an act of foolishness, are the cracks beginning to appear..."

The youngest lowered his eyes to the sword hilt. "Remember the day she told us?" He pursed his lips, knuckles taut and pale around the handle. "She didn't have a choice! She had no income, or future! Despite my feelings towards the bastard, he elevated her!"

Shu angled his chin and scoffed. He squeezed the belly of his steed and raced through the night in a blur of white and gold.

 **.:.**

Yui Komori believed herself to have conquered the battle of sickness during the first few months of pregnancy.

Subaru came by the previous day with leftover sweets from the castle kitchens. It was a lovely gesture which filled her heart with warmth. He denied his good will and insisted that it was a cooks idea, who had carried seven children already, and in her experience, she craved sugar. Instead, a whiff of marzipan and gingerbread flared nausea.

She didn't entertain his company for long; he was preoccupied with the condition of her face. Yui had witnessed injuries varying in severity and her heart would pang for those poor women shackled in an abusive marriage. Often she found herself ushering them back to her cottage while she applied ointments and herbs. Her medicinal experience had stemmed from years of watching the estranged doctor at work with his patients.

Yui's state was not severe; her lip was burst and a yellowed bruise blossomed across her cheekbone. It was noticeable, yet she felt little pain. The youngest Sakamaki demanded to know who the man was, but she refused name him. She didn't blame Reiji for striking her; he had returned after years of torment, to his wife, carrying a child with another man. She understood his anger.

But Subaru Sakamaki was not dim; he put the pieces together. Of whom would her predicament affect the most? The husband of the adulteress, of course. He left her cottage in an inexorable rage, and she did not know what he had done, or what he intended to do. His recklessness worried her.

Feeling restless and cramped in her small house, she had spent the day outside. She could have ventured into the village to gather fabric for her needle, but she hadn't the energy to face disdain. The sun was bright and high and there was no breeze to chill her bones. The fresh air eased her sickness and she busied herself gardening, planting roses and lilies, or reading the leather-bound books which the Sakamaki brothers had long ago gifted her.

Today it rained. It was cold from the poor insulation, and she often tripped from the number of pales cluttering the floor to collect the drips from the roof. She did not sleep well, either. Her mind was frenzied with the consequences of Subaru's delinquency and Reiji's promise of destruction.

Suddenly, there was a knock upon her door. It was a sound she didn't recognise. Subaru never knocked. He would kick the door open while her father's would be quiet and quick. Shu, on the rare occasion that he visited on official business, would be a drawl of rapping knuckles. Her lover, meanwhile, would clamber through an open window to avoid prying eyes.

Tightening the bow of her headscarf, she opened the door which revealed Karl Sakamaki's illegitimate son, Kanato.

"Hello," she began, mustering up a smile despite her weariness. "What can I do for _—_ "

Before she could finish her greeting, he thrust a patch of fabric into her hands.

"You must wear it," his tone was imperative, face devoid of emotion. "Or when the vile creature is born, you will be hanged."

Yui startled and stumbled backwards. Nervously, she lowered her eyes to the object he had forcibly placed within her grasp. An embroided scarlet letter was pinned to a quilt of black and outlined in a thread of gold. It was beautiful craftsmanship. _Adulteress,_ it stood for. It could hardly have been for _Apple._

"I made it myself," his smile was the sugar in the basket of marzipan; her nausea returned. "Are you thankful?"

"The embroidery is beautiful," she said. "But thankful? No, I am as thankful as a prisoner captive in their cell."

Anger blazed within lilac and he spat at her feet. "Stupid woman! Ungrateful whore!"

He cursed her existence until his figure vanished within the shrubbery. Yui closed the door with more force than she had intended and fetched the handheld mirror situated upon her vanity. As she held the scarlet fabric to her bosom she realised, as a tear ran down her cheek, that neither her mind, body or soul would ever be able to escape the clasps of her shame.

Comparative to the letter, love was beautiful. Yet both in the end had ruined her.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, I did say this was inspired by _"The Scarlet Letter"..._

It frustrates me to no end writing KarlHeinz. He is the biggest hypocrite in existence. It's fine _—_ or perhaps applauded! _—_ for him to indulge in Cordelia despite him being married, and even to father three sons. Yet poor Yui, who in that era was cursed to be born a woman, is scorned and punished for doing the exact same. Logic, anyone? -.-

Cordelia is nasty in this story, yes, and a terrible mother, but I'm not trying to portray her as inherently evil. Yui and her are similar in many ways. I suppose the real villains remain to be Karl... and Reiji? O.o I have an explanation as to why Reiji leaves Yui, and what happened to him, which will be revealed in later chapters.

Thanks for reading! :)

 **allyelle~**


	4. The Weight of Shame

**.:. 4 .:.**

Yui Komori rummaged in her pouch and cringed as her fingers brushed the scarcity of coins. She needed a number of things from the market-place, yet her status and income refused to oblige. Reiji had left four years ago, and without his sustainable earnings, each day was a constant struggle. If she miscalculated the budget for fabric, she would be forced to sacrifice food for a day or two.

Her father would soon notice her unhealthy pallor and tight collarbones, and with a kiss on her brow and a murmured verse of good health, he would slip bread and cheese into her basket. Yui disliked being pitied upon and she knew to avoid him on those days. She would occupy her mind with books and nibble at her fingernails; anything to sate her protesting stomach.

"A bag of flour, please," decided the woman. "That will be all."

"Sixty, miss," the merchant replied, his gaze sweeping over the letter pinned to the cloth of her breast. It caught the sunshine like a brilliant ruby, conspicuous and foreign against the backdrop of her plain bodice.

"But Sir!" Yui gaped. "That is thrice as much as I would usually pay!"

Long, oily strands swayed with the shake of his head. "Take it or leave it," he crossed his arms to seal the finality. "My price shan't be lowered for you."

"Then I shall leave it."

Pink irises fluttered to her empty basket, and with a sigh of resignation, she went on her way.

It was her first public outing since donning the scarlet letter and it seemed that everybody was intent in making her as miserable as possible. As she lifted her hem to avoid squalor, she was painfully aware of the glares, sniggers and whispers which lurked at every stall. With the aim to infuriate the small-minded village folk, she angled her chin and hummed an optimistic tune. With each tread of her boot, people scattered, as though she was a virus carrying the plague.

They feared what they could not understand.

She needn't venture to the market often; she was mostly self-sufficient. Yui owned a goat which produced milk, several hens for eggs, and then there was the stream to gather water. To make bread, she would purchase flour, followed by yarn and bolts of textile for garments.

Yui was accomplished at needlework; it was her solace during the many months of solitude. Every week she would hand over her finished creations to Subaru and he would sell them to high-ranking villagers. They would pay a fine price for a new frock for their wives.

"Oi! Cricket!"

She was passing the tavern when she heard Subaru's call. The building was dozing with the aftermath of a night of drinking and activity. The shutters were drawn and the hanging sign—which illustrated a cherub Cupid and his bow—creaked and flapped. It was an abandoned site during daylight hours.

Shifting the basket in her arms, she turned and smiled. Subaru bounded towards her, having split from the company of a group of men wearing white-wigs and high-collars. Mud splashed up onto his boots and breeches while his hair—which his father had no doubt forced him to tame—spilled forwards and shrouded an eye. He waved, the black of his cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a bat.

"Subaru," she sighed his name in relief. "On official business, I see." Her neck craned to find the impressive figure of Karl Sakamaki, but not his heir; she frowned. "Without your brother?"

"The lazy bastard is bedridden," he clicked his tongue. "A splitting migraine, he says. But I'd wager it's to avoid of the tedium of business."

"He's ill? Let me hurry back to the cottage, I'm sure butterbur grows by the riverbank—"

"Don't waste your time," Subaru grumbled, his disinterested stare roaming across the bustling street. "The doctor's already at the castle."

"Mr. Gibbons?" Yui questioned with surprise. "Master Shu allowed him to fuss? After the last time—"

Subaru snorted into his forearm. "When a leech wriggled up his nose?"

Yui exploded into laugher, high-pitched with a sweet, melodious ring. "Yes! Oh, and how he sulked! He gathered Margot into his arms—do you remember her?—that old, smelly, worm-ridden cat? He wouldn't dare speak to us for hours!"

The shrill sound attracted disapproving glances; it was unsightly for a woman to manifest a ruckus in a public place. However some were directed towards her companion. The village whore and the young lord exchanging jokes? It was scandalous! Yet Subaru never did care for the opinions of strangers. The only judgement which mattered would be those rare few who had earned a place in his heart.

He blinked at her; this wasn't the girl he had grown to know over the duration of her condition. Her smiles would ache and never meet her eyes. But now here she stood, with her shame blazing upon her chest, giggling like a child. Subaru Sakamaki did not understand women and their strange, unpredictable personalities.

"What?" said Yui, breathless. "Do I have something upon my face?"

"Hah?" Subaru flushed and cocked his head to the side. "Your ugly features, that's what."

"Do not be unkind."

He exhaled and threaded fingers through his hair. "You... you haven't laughed like that in a long time."

"The memory of childhood is a happy one," she recollected. "It makes me forget the weight of this letter... if only for a moment."

Subaru pursed his lips, and with a furrow between his brows, he focused on a point past her shoulder. "You and him are damn pathetic. I don't know where he gets the energy to be so fucking stubborn," his eyes flitted downward to meet hers. "He hasn't forgiven you, Cricket."

"Who?"

Subaru scowled. "The King. You're to be hanged tomorrow eve."

Yui startled as she remembered Kanato's words— _'You must wear it. Or when the vile creature is born, you will be hanged.'_

With wide eyes, she clutched her chest. "S-Sorry?"

"My _brother,"_ he rolled his eyes and lightly jabbed her forehead. "You stupid imp."

"Yes, well," Yui hedged, laughing off her anxiety. "Perhaps I do not deserve his forgiveness," she gave a rueful grin. "I still love him, as I do you, Subaru." The youngest's expression was confused with a hint of red dusting his cheeks, but Yui ushered him not to digress from the previous topic. "Is your brother well?"

"That bastard—your husband," he elaborated at her raised eyebrow. "Is attending to him. He's a cunning man... I wouldn't trust him to shovel my horse's shit."

To be brought up in such a wealthy, affluent family, Yui was in awe of his crude language. Conversely, Shu had always spoken well. It was often drawled with frequent pauses in recent years, but nonetheless, his speech reflected his rank. Subaru—despite his rudeness and temper—mimicked his elder brother's accent growing up. Yet during his adolescence, he sought company in Ayato—who had the common tongue—and the many felons who would visit the tavern. To be taken seriously, Yui supposed, he had to adapt.

"Cunning?"

"He has..." Subaru waved his hands as they walked, weaving through the sea of people like two slinking fish. "A certain way about him. Cryptic questions and secretive smiles... Fuck, simply being in the same room as that bastard makes me uneasy."

"Subaru," she looked upwards. "I didn't know you were well acquainted with him?"

"Huh? You aren't telling me you haven't heard?"

"I barely venture out of my cottage... so no, I have not."

"He's residing at the castle," he revealed with a sour twist to his lips. "As if the place wasn't filled with enough pompous brutes."

Yui stopped abruptly, hanging her head to gaze upon her murky reflection in a puddle. Many cursed her manners for making an obstacle of herself in the street, but she didn't seem to care. Her hands smothered the lower part of her face, and Subaru couldn't decipher if she was pleased or dismayed by the news.

"He was staying at the tavern," she murmured, watching as the water rippled with the tremors of cart wheels. "Now he is not."

"Jeez, didn't I just fucking say that?" Subaru fluffed the hair from his eyes and circled back on his heels to face her. "Well," his tone mellowed. "At least four-eyes is outta the triplet's hair, right?"

"Right," Yui issued a small laugh and perked up after realising her stupor. "I do not believe Ayato would be impressed by attending to his every whim. Both men like to think of themselves as superior."

"I don't know who the hell they think they are," he grumbled with a set jaw. Then, as though remembering something, he laughed. "Ayato told me all of the shit he used to request—all fancy bed-linens and hot water... you'd think he was royalty!" his head shook. "Fucking great. Now we have something else to waste our money upon."

Unexpectedly, Yui jolted, as though pushed by an invisible entity. The baby homed inside of her kicked and unsettled, and with an array curses falling from his lips, Subaru steadied her. Her vision was a mingling of indistinct, colourful blurs, face ashen with nausea.

"Hey!" his voice reached her, but it was distant and echoed, the sound one hears when plummeted underwater. "If you're going to faint, at least give me prior warning!"

"I... I'm sorry." Abashed, Yui regained her feet. "I'm afraid I haven't eaten this morning."

He narrowed his eyes and snatched a loaf from a nearby crate. His thievery didn't go unnoticed and the merchant brandished a fist. "You scoundrel! I'll have you whipped!"

Subaru's upper-lip curled, like a ferocious animal flashing its teeth. He was streetwise, always carrying a pin-sharp dagger in his belt, and often, Yui caught sight of it when his cloak billowed. It was crafted with the finest silver, and embedded into the hilt were three sapphires. He was fascinated by it—when static, it was harmless. Yet when held, it harnessed the ability to kill. His fingers itched for it now.

"M-Master Sakamaki!" the trader blundered. "If I had known it was you—!"

"Whatever," Subaru waved a hand in dismissal and shoved the bread to her lips. Yui spluttered with the force and took a bite to satisfy his brutal coddling. "Your basket's empty," he noticed all of a sudden, the words ringing with accusation.

Yui nodded. "It is."

He was silent, but his fury manifested itself through his eyes. They were trained upon her, and Yui, similar to the merchant, became fearful. Her attention scurried to her wrist to idly tug at a loose thread.

"Their prices were horrendously steep."

"I fucking knew it," he growled. "Those bastards didn't accept your money—they wouldn't sell to you."

"They didn't openly refuse, but they did charge me the price of a pearl for a bag of flour," she admitted, twirling a blonde curl around her finger. "It seems that gold is not worth its weight once touched by the hands of an adulteress."

A week had passed since Kanato stood on her doorstep to deliver her sentence. Subaru didn't find out about her punishment by her own lips; no, it came from his father's gloating. At breakfast and supper, the subject of Yui Komori's mark of shame was inescapable. Karl Sakamaki was proud of what he had cast upon the girl, and he relished in every ounce of her misfortune. It was a message to other women—be unfaithful and this will forever be your prison.

Shu was clueless on the matter; he hadn't left his bed-chambers in days. He wouldn't care either way, Subaru had concluded, so he kept the news to himself. With each passing year, his brother's health and motivation deteriorated, and although he would never admit it, it worried him. Subaru worried about a lot of things; his suicidal mother, who frequently prised off the wood barricading her tower window, and Yui, the clumsy fool who lacked self-preservation. It drove him to madness.

"They have no right!"

Yui yelped as he latched onto her arm. He dragged her along the narrow streets and she hopscotched the foul waste with a ruche of her skirt. "S-Subaru you mustn't!"

"Shut up!" he yelled without sparing her a backwards glance. The youngest was unaware of his own strength and his nails riveted her skin. Yui suppressed a cry; she knew he had good intentions, and more importantly, she knew it was never wise to cross Subaru Sakamaki when his temper struck. "What the hell did you want?"

Her brain was wiped of thought. "Um," she mumbled. "Cloth... and flour. But really—" He skidded to a halt and Yui, who hadn't foreseen his decision, collided into his chest. She squeaked and rubbed her nose.

"That's _it?"_

Subaru's expression was bewildered, and it was in moments like these that Yui realised their difference. He expected her to list meats and vegetables and spices—after all, that was his staple diet. The young lord, who had the world at his feet and an endless fountain of gold, could be ignorant to those who lived on the breadline. Yui Komori had been his friend for over a decade, and he never viewed her for what she truly was. Perhaps if they had met in adulthood, he would judge her by her sex, status and shame.

Yui smiled, and around the edges played a whisper of jest. "Am I in need of anything else?"

"A gag," he quipped. "And a brain."

"Oh, Subaru," said she as her fingers straightened his awry cravat. "You are intolerable this morning."

"Shu usually handles these things," he exhaled. "Meeting with the officials, I mean. I can't tolerate the fucking eloquence of it all! No, you know what? Fuck them. Phonies, the whole lot of them. I don't give a shit about them, and they don't give a shit about me. But you know what they do give a shit about? The gold rattling in my pocket. I'm sick of it. You're lucky that you don't have a penny to your name, Cricket. At least people hate you openly."

"I do not believe they hate me," Yui pondered. "They hate my moral judgement. They do not see me as a human like themselves who dreams and loves; instead, all they see is a letter. What poor souls we are," she matched his sigh. "Objectified by wealth and shame."

Subaru gave a distracted hum in agreement as he bargained with a merchant for her goods. Yui pushed her pouch under his nose, but he swatted it away like a pestering fly. He had more money than he knew what to do with, he insisted, and it was a heavy weight in his pocket. She thanked him and insisted on a loan, but with his menacing glare, she dropped the subject at once.

With his fame and disposition, the trader was generous. It was unfair how the rich were gifted with discounts when they were the only ones who could afford it. The system was corrupt; once rich, always rich. Once poor, always poor.

In a trance, Yui's stare had found a young boy, no older than seven, hidden behind a barrel. Eyes the colour of a cloudless sky, he was timid, his grubby hands shaking as he swiped fair hair. He was malnourished and thin, the cloth on his back continually slipping from his shoulder. Yui wanted to weep at the sight of him, and subconsciously, her fingers traced the swell of her stomach.

With a kind smile, she crept towards him, but he flinched and retreated at the looming shadow. It was probable that he had been beaten for loitering on the doorsteps of businesses. "Please, don't be afraid," she soothed as she crouched down beside him. "I'm Yui. Are you lost?"

He shook his head. Dirt-caked nails were pinned to his mouth as teeth nibbled at skin. By her own habit, she knew of his hunger.

"Your parents?"

"With God," said he with a croak of dehydration. "Fever took 'em."

Her eyes crinkled with sadness. "Dear, what is your name?"

"S-Sora."

"And what a fitting name that is." Yui twisted to the Sakamaki behind her, whose arms were bundled with purchases, looking down upon the child with a discomforted pull of lips. "Subaru, do you have a handkerchief?" He patted his chest and plucked out a small white cloth. It was embroided with the initials _S.S._

Yui wiped the tears and muck from his face which soon revealed a set of handsome features. A cluster of freckles peppered high cheekbones, sandy eyebrows a smooth and gentle curve.

"I would run and buy you some bread, but those silly merchants do not have my favour today. Here," she took his hands and placed her pouch into his palm. "You need this far more than I do. Buy yourself some food and a cloak to keep warm. In the church, the minister is kind and he will give you board in return for simple chores. Do you understand?" Mutely, the child nodded. "Be safe, Sora."

Dust sprung up as he scrambled to his feet. He stood tall and kissed her cheek before rushing off and disappearing amongst the crowds. Yui laughed while Subaru emitted a sound of disapproval.

"Kindness is your weakness, Cricket," muttered the youngest. "In this world, people will tread over those with a soft heart."

"I disagree," challenged the woman, looking down upon her overflowing basket. "If we do not have kindness, how can we have hope?"

 **.:.**

Arguably, Shu Sakamaki's bed-chambers possessed the finest view. Located at the rear of the castle, it was quiet, the adjacent rooms unoccupied. Furniture was wreathed in dust cloaks until an event was held—such as a ball—then life would be breathed into them once more. How he detested such things. Tittering women and raucous laughter provided him with a headache and wavering patience. He would leave and sleep anywhere quiet. He had no qualms sleeping under the apple tree; it gave him a betraying sense of freedom compared to the suffocating stone walls.

His room overlooked the forest, and with a gleam of blue and white foam, the river could be found. In winter, one could see the upheaval of smoke from the chimney of Yui Komori's cottage. From the height, he heard every fluctuation in the weather—the pattering of rain calmed him, yet the wind awoke and chilled him to the bone. Tapestries in shades of gold hung opposite the four-poster bed while a chest housed treasured possessions: instruments, sheets of compositions and letters.

Two unpleasant things faced him as he lay on the mattress with a hand sprawled across his forehead; Reiji Kasei and his bureau. The wooden surface was engraved with years of frustration at the unwanted responsibility of his position: broken quills, slammed fists and scorch marks.

Reiji was burdensome company. He was relentless in finding the man who had tempted his wife. His glare penetrated the souls of men, planting a seed of torment in the hope of flourishing a second scarlet letter.

The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, the only light being the quavering wick of the candle beside the bespectacled doctor. He sat at the desk with a quill in hand, the scratching of the tip against parchment agony to his ears. A migraine was unbearable; his skull was shattering.

"Must you create further noise?" Shu groaned as his fingers massaged skin. "Or do you derive pleasure from others pain?"

Reiji sipped from a teacup of blue and white china. "Why, that it quite an accusation. I am simply in charge of your care. Applying my medicinal expertise is the least I can do to repay my keep."

The doctor had grinded butterbur leaves and mingled them in a cup of water. With each mouthful, it temporarily soothed the pain. But Shu hadn't the energy to continually sit up and drink, so he ignored Reiji's orders; he chose to suffer.

Shu shifted onto his side and squeezed the pillow. "A woman would have provided me with more entertainment. Bending over to hold the cup to my lips... ah, she could do little not to expose herself to me. Dresses are exceedingly low these days. Much to my delight, of course..."

"Your tongue is filthy," he chided, and to punish him for the lewd remark, he clattered the teacup onto the saucer. Shu moaned and clasped hands over his ears. "You speak of a woman—any woman? Or one in particular?"

"I am a man..." he straightened and fumbled for the glass on the nightstand. There were exceptions; he would cave when the pain tampered with his vision and caused a wave of nausea. "Shouldn't any woman do?" he drank and reclined against the bed-frame. "No... I find myself fussy. Most women are noisy and bothersome... their laughter makes my ears bleed."

"My wife's laughter was a pleasant sound," Reiji recollected. "Wouldn't you say?"

"That is one man's opinion. I find it shrill and barely tolerable."

"Indeed," there was a mocking undertone. "I recall how _insufferable_ she seemed to you on Midsummers Eve all those years ago."

"To bring up the Komori girl means you still suspect me... right?" He released a weary sigh and returned the drink to the stand. Lying down, he covered his eyes with a flannel. "She and I had a quarrel many years ago. The issue... has never been fully resolved."

"The issue?"

Suddenly, the door widened with the appearance of a cat. It scurried into the room and pounced onto the bed, padding over the covers until it rested upon Shu's chest. With a low chuckle, he lifted the flannel and cracked open an eye. "Are you intent on bothering me?" the master asked, and the animal rolled onto its back and pawed the air. "Fine, stay, but don't mewl. You better not have fleas from your idle wandering..."

With black vision, images surfaced of his old albino cat. Fur as white as a pearl, the Komori girl affectionately named her Margot. She had discovered her as a kitten in the forest, hidden in the cavern of a tree and riddled with disease. Margot was a runt, and the three of them—Yui, Subaru and himself—nursed her back to health, and it clung onto Shu with the neediness and affection of a mother cat.

One day, instead of studying, he snuck out to the stables to play with her. But his governess caught him and reported his behaviour to his father. Karl Sakamaki would not tolerate whimsical behaviour from his heir and as punishment, he grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and tossed her from the window. She broke her back and became paralysed. Sniffling, Subaru ended her pain with a rock to the head. They told Yui that she had ran away, and naively, she believed them.

The cat which currently lay upon his chest was ginger and striped, twinning the pattern of a tiger-lily. He had stumbled across the feline on a walk through the forest five years ago. Wildflowers sprouted beneath his boots, and there, amongst them, was an orange creature grooming itself. Amber and blue met, and with a head shake, Shu carried on his way. But he was soon halted with the light crunching of leaves; it was following him. He palmed his forehead and exhaled, when another disruption sent the birds fleeing. Yui Komori, a child no more, manifested through the trees. She was breathless and rosy cheeked.

 _"Lily? Lily!"_ Her blonde locks flung madly as her head snapped to the side. _"Where are you?"_ she gasped when she laid eyes upon his silhouette. _"S-Shu_ — _?"_

 _"This thing..."_ he plucked the cat into his arms and it nestled into his chest, elongating a purr. _"Belongs to you?"_

 _"No,"_ she clarified as hands rubbed bare skin. She was barefoot and clothed in a flimsy nightgown; he itched for his cloak. _"She's a stray._ _I only fed her a little..."_

 _"Hn,"_ with disinterest, he focused upon the hollow of a tree, similar to the one she had found Margot in many years prior. _"It won't stop following me."_

 _"Foolish girl, come back inside at once!"_ Reiji's voice echoed through the clearing. " _Running outside, barefoot? I won't have it!"_ It became louder and closer. _"You will do well to behave like a lady if we are to be sharing the same roof!"_

Shu's smile was strained. _"Your husband does not appreciate your spirit, it seems..."_

 _"Animals have always loved you,"_ she ignored his comment, her pink eyes welled under the moonlight. _"Keep her... a castle is a fine place for a cat to live. Don't let her run away this time, okay?"_ she turned with the intention to walk back towards her cottage, yet as though struck by something, she craned to face him. _"Lily... her name is Lily."_

 _"Obviously... I did not believe you were screaming at the flowers."_

With a nod and a feeble laugh, she spun on her heel. It was his words this time which stopped her from returning to the call of the doctor. _"Lilies are toxic to cats. Another wise choice of yours, Cricket Girl..."_

A sob was lost in the rustling of leaves, and when Shu swivelled his body, Yui Komori had vanished.

"Hm?" Reiji's figure towered over him. "What's this? Have you fallen asleep? Your energy levels are a disgrace. It is only good manners to stay awake when one is talking to you. My, and a cat certainly cannot be helping. Those things are a nuisance—a walking disease."

"The only _nuisance_ is you," Shu murmured.

Frightened, Lily jumped from his chest and snuggled into the creases formed in the quilts. Saddened at the disappearance of warmth, he sat up and curled an arm around his knee. "Animals... have always seemed to like me. Whereas my brother," his mouth broke into a weak smile. "They fled and bit him... and how he would _sulk."_

Hands tied behind his back, Reiji strolled towards the window and drew the curtains. "Ah, Subaru Sakamaki," the doctor pondered, his form paled by the moonlight. "I remember him as a youth... always at the surgery with broken bones and bruised skin. How old is the boy?"

"He was twenty-one this past winter."

"He is loyal to my wife," Reiji continued, the breeze swaying black strands. "Defending her at the castle door? Why, one has to admire his bravery... or could it be foolishness?"

"Investigate him... but you may wake to find a dagger in your throat."

The doctor arched an eyebrow and met his patient's stare. "Hmph," he folded his arms. "Has the pain lessened?" Yet by the flatness of his tone, it was clear that he hoped it hadn't.

"My suffering brings you great satisfaction... It is worthless attempting to conceal it."

"Perhaps. After all," there was a tiny, malicious curve to his lips. "Torture can reveal many truths."

"No..." Shu began, drawling with distraction. "The pain hasn't lessened... nor do I believe it ever will." Absentmindedly, he ran a finger along the cat's slinking spine. "My mother had a similar affliction. She was a cold, stoic woman. Her emotions: stress, sadness, guilt... would not transpire outwardly. They would rise into her head and she would be bedridden for days. I am a selfish man... those days were happy ones. Carefree... I was finally spared of her wrath."

A frown distorted his features. "For me to speak so openly... you have surely slipped something into my drink."

"I believe guilt manifests itself in many ways," Reiji remained nonchalant. "But this time, my hand is innocent. Nightfall and fatigue are simply potions for honesty."

"Leave," Shu clicked his tongue and flopped his body down against the mattress. "I'm going to sleep... and I would rather not have prying eyes upon me while I rest."

Reiji hummed and gathered his belongings into a leather briefcase. "As you wish."

He turned to leave when a small object, partially shrouded by sheets of unfinished compositions, caught his eye. The surface bounced back the moon rays with a glimmer, and he pushed up his glasses to see a gold ring with vines of metal capturing a stone of rose quartz. Shu, who was not as idle as the doctor was led to believe, whipped out a hand to enclose the jewel safely in his palm.

"A man should not touch what is not theirs," he warned.

Reiji's upper-lip curled. "A truer statement has never been spoken."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi!

Now, I know somebody will always be disappointed when the father is named, but I will not be able to please everybody and for that I apologise. This was wonderfully phrased in a review by _Tigerlily._ But what I will clarify is that the father is _not_ an OC. Personally, I love OC's—if they have depth and purpose—and I do intend to incorporate two or three (Yui's child is one as is Sora) for plot purposes.

In case any of you were wondering, Ayato (and possibly Laito) will make an appearance in the next chapter because I know, as of late, my focus has been on Reiji, Shu and Subaru...

Lastly, thank you to all of the _Guest/Anonymous_ reviewers, to _ExilEden_ and to _Faith of Soul_ for your feedback. I really appreciate it! I was lurking on Tumblr the other day when I noticed that _fyeahdialovers_ recommended this fic, which was super sweet! Thank you :)

I can't say for certain when the next update will be because 1) I only have half of it written and 2) I'm visiting family in the countryside for a few weeks. Signal is rare and decent Wi-Fi is another. Try to bear with me D:

 **allyelle~**


	5. The Sky's Temper

**A/N:** Hello! I'm terribly sorry for the lateness. To make up for it, I present you with a super~ long chapter.

Happy reading, and thank you for all of your lovely reviews! :)

 **allyelle~**

* * *

 _It is a reminder that even the skies scream,_

 _burdened with the weight of lost, forgotten dreams._

 **—Nikita Gill**

* * *

 **.:. 5 .:.**

The church was a hive for thunderstorms. Yui Komori was a devout Catholic, and the church had always been her home and her place of safety, where she was never judged nor treated as a social pariah. She loved God unconditionally. Yet when flashes of light slashed across the sky, her loyalty wavered. Did He enjoy seeing this terrified, weeping girl kneel and beg beside His altar?

She remembered back in childhood when thunder echoed in the high-ceilings, the stone weathered and damp from centuries of rainfall. It was humid and any attempts to light the hearth would be in vain. She would burn pale fingers on a flint, eyes welled as the logs failed to ignite. Bathed in darkness, the street outside was silenced of cart wheels and hooves, and with the sound of her father's snores, she faced her fear alone.

Yui would curl up at the foot of a pew or with her nose pressed against the stained-glass behind the minister's pulpit. She would cry until dawn broke through, the rainbow beams warming her skin her only relief. It was God's message that her suffering had ended.

One night, however, she had company. There was a distinctive sound of snoring, yet it was obnoxious, not Seiji Komori's shallow breaths. Yui wrung her hands and rose, tiptoeing down the aisle to the bench adjacent to the door. She encountered a red-headed boy, the clothes on his back ill-fitted and grimy, and with his sprawl, his limbs hung at uncomfortable angles.

Kneeling down beside him, scents of ale and smoke wafted to her nose. He twitched in his sleep, lips parted in a mumble. _"I'll do... better... next time..."_

 _"Ayato,"_ she nudged his side. _"What are you...?"_

He groaned and his eyes—cat-like and slit—opened to view his disturber. _"Annoying wench... you have some nerve waking Yours Truly."_

 _"S-Sorry,"_ stuttered she, fiddling with a loose button on her nightgown. _"Only... it's the middle of the night."_ Her eyes skirted upwards to the minister's quarters then back down to the door. _"I was certain papa had locked it..."_

Ayato grinned, and with a fist rubbing his eye, he rummaged in his pocket and fished out a bent piece of wire. It was a lock-pick. _"Yours Truly can go where he likes whenever he likes. Or, Breastless_ — _are you saying my worship,"_ he scoffed at the word. _"Has a curfew?"_

 _"God has no curfew,"_ said Yui in a tone which suggested the opening of a sermon. _"He is omnipresent."_ She cleared her throat, knowing it would be impolite to lecture the boy on his atheism. The matter which pressed her was why he had broken into the church in the dead of night with the sole intention to sleep. _"Shouldn't you go home?"_

 _"Home?"_ he grimaced and kicked his feet up onto the back of the pew; she pursed her lips but said nothing. _"To the disgusting sounds of that bitch and that man? No..."_

Yui nodded in understanding, knowing the subject of Cordelia and Karl Sakamaki was a scandal brushed under the rug. Everyone knew of the Lord's extramarital affair, but they chose ignorance over his wrath. It was a façade; like the family portrait which hung in the castle's great hall, Karl Sakamaki appeared to be a moral, powerful figure with a beautiful wife and two fine sons.

Yet if one peeled back the layers of paint, they would see Shu's lifeless eyes, then Subaru and his mother, fighting for the possession of a dagger. Karl, turned away, kissed the hand of his mistress while the triplets lurked in the shadows, clumsily painted and smudged. Ayato was not a whisper of gossip plucked from the cradle of a stork.

Sensing the sombre mood between them, he laughed, but it was critical and to her expense. He was never one to dwell on personal matters; it was his biggest flaw and he refused to be labelled by it. After all, he was superior and perfect.

 _"Fourteen and still flat as a pancake... should've chosen a better place to wait out the storm, huh?"_

Yui flushed and slapped arms over her chest. Ayato stood and stretched and walked towards the door. It was heavy and bolted, yet it creaked open with the storm, the air rushing in and pebbling her skin.

 _"Under Mirai Akiyama's porch, maybe,"_ said he with a smirk, creating crude, jiggling motions with his hands. _"Tits as big as they come."_

Mirai Akiyama's status almost levelled the Sakamaki's. A respected family of nobility, they resided in a stately manor on the opposite end of the village, where the forest began and the river ceased. With large, light-letting windows and immaculate gardens, the inhabitants consisted of Mirai, then a girl of thirteen, and her mother and father. Infamously an only child, her mother bore many stillborn sons. Lord Akiyama was distressed by his wife's incapability to produce him an heir and sought to marry his daughter off well.

Rather a plain girl with a rounded face, it was her doe-eyes which made her an unassuming beauty. Hair curly and as russet as an autumn pine, it often frizzed out of her bonnet. Mirai, self-conscious, would hurry to a shop window with fussing hands; to her dismay, she hadn't inherited her mother's pin-straight tresses.

Despite her ordinary features, her figure had blossomed. Her father, with the motive for her to attract a husband, insisted that she dressed in the latest fashions. Glorious shades of duck-egg blue and rolls of lace swaddled her skirts, and with each step, she drew in unwanted attention.

Suddenly, a white flash paled their faces, and after a few beats of silence, the roar of thunder followed. A strangled scream caught in Yui's throat, and with hands clasped over her ears, she fell to her knees.

 _"C-Can you stay?"_ she implored, lacking the courage to open her eyes. _"P-Please?"_

Ayato folded his arms and regarded the trembling girl at his feet. _"So that was you... always shrieking at the sky's temper."_

Stunned, Yui tilted her head. _"H-How...?"_

Before he could answer, another lightning bolt stung the sky. Yui could hear her erratic heartbeat as her body shook with sobs, waiting, with bated breath, for the crashing of clouds. Ayato crouched down to her level and lifted her chin; tears pooled in his palm. His expression was not one of pity; no, it harnessed the power of a thunderbolt, drinking in her pain with relish and intrigue.

 _"Yours Truly,"_ said he, flashing teeth with the hook of his lip. _"Knows your secret..."_

 **.:.**

Fingers white around the window-sill, she gazed upwards to the black, overcast clouds and the air misted with rain. Stranded in her cottage, Yui longed more than anything not to be alone. But she was not a little girl; she was a woman with a baby on the way and she had to remain strong. Inevitably, the child would look up to her and she could not disfigure their perception with cowardice. She needed a distraction; anything to divert her mind from the thunder.

Books provided her with an escape; lost in her imagination, the cruelness of reality diminished. Literacy was the greatest gift and she was fortunate, for only rich women were taught to read. Illegally, she had once schooled with the triplets. Yui supposed if her mother had lived, she would have been taught womanly skills, or perhaps if she had been wealthy, she could have been shipped to a boarding school. In the village, there was a Sunday School which her father catered for the poor. Craftily, he would sneak Yui into the back with her pigtails tied under a cap.

By her father's request, Yui rarely spoke, otherwise her feminine voice would be detected. She had always been thin with an underdeveloped chest and in her younger years it worked in her favour; everyone viewed her as another boy. Meek yet academically able, they left her alone. But to the minister's chagrin, it did not last. Laito was observant and the class jest; he teased her and snatched off her hat. Her braids swung and batted her chin and she was revealed at once.

 _"Ah~! I always knew it to be true!"_ he purred as the boys filed out of the rectory. _"Only a girl such as yourself, Little Bitch, could possess such fine eyes!"_

She had never felt such ridicule. Blinded by tears, she ran to the riverbank, her bag still slung across her torso. Yui flung it, her books, slate and chalk spilling onto the grass. She never lost her patience and was consumed with regret. The pages of her books—having tumbled into the water—were transparent and waved, her slate and chalk shattered. Wiping her eyes, she bent to retrieve them; she would have to apologise to her father for her carelessness.

 _"Interesting..."_ drawled a voice. _"Do you make a habit of polluting the river with books?"_

 _"A mere river, it seems, has more rights to an education than I."_

Shu, who she had not spotted, lay on his back with a book flopped across his face. He peeped from the pages to rake her figure; she still wore her male disguise. She hopped the stones, waved, and sat beside him. He regarded her quietly, waiting for her to speak.

 _"The problem is,"_ she murmured, resting her chin atop her knees. _"Is that I am a girl_ — _"_

 _"Who has successfully ruined my sleep?"_

Her eyes softened. _"Could the book be so boring, Shu?"_ Yui retrieved the work he had used as a barrier against the sun's glare and ran a finger along the page; she could not comprehend the black patterns. _"I... I cannot—"_

He grabbed the book and snapped it shut, and with a sigh, he plucked out a handkerchief. _"Don't be noisy,"_ he chided, dabbing the tears from her cheeks. _"Reading is overrated, anyways. First they teach you to read, then you're forced to learn nonsense..."_ his smile was thin from her pleading stare. _"Fine, I'll teach you... alright? Just not today. The sun makes me weary."_

 _"Shu,"_ Yui inclined her head to his lap. _"What's it called?"_

 _"Hn... this? Romeo and Juliet... ah, what a tedious read. I read it to Subaru earlier and he almost cried."_ Yui followed his gaze to find the youngest throwing daggers at a burlap sack. He grunted in exertion as sweat rolled down from his hairline. _"Don't,"_ Shu suppressed a laugh. _"Tell him I told you... he isn't safe wielding that thing. I value my fingers."_

 _"Not your head?"_

 _"No... I'd rather play the piano. Without a head, I'd have no ears, so I'd be spared from that man's nagging... although, I wouldn't be able to hear music again. What a troublesome thought. I can't decide what I'd rather have."_

Yui frowned. _"What's it about?"_

 _"Fools,"_ he answered. His eyes were hazed over, watching his brother in a drowsy trance. _"A pair of love-stricken fools..."_

Yui traced the spines of books stacked on the mantelpiece. There was no need for a bookshelf for she could never afford them. She merely owned a handful, and they were old editions, worn and yellowed, no longer wanted at the castle or the church.

 _Romeo and Juliet_ was her first. Shu gave it to her out of hatred; he had never read anything more pathetic. Conversely, it was her favourite. She slotted it out and the books, like a set of dominos, toppled onto the side. Cracking the spine, it opened to a page weighted down by a makeshift marker. There, pressed and folded, was the young master's handkerchief. Starched white with his embroided initials, her tears remained crusted into the cotton.

 _'What a foolish woman you are, mulling over forgotten things,'_ he would undoubtedly say to her. _'Nostalgia's a pain... why torture yourself with it?'_

The pad of her fingertip traced the curve of the _S._ It reminded her of a serpent. "Oh, Shu. How I wish you would forgive me."

Uncanny to an explosion of white fire, the cottage walls flashed. Her hands lost nerve and the book thudded to the ground, and with the wet air, the candle extinguished itself. The windows and doors rattled and banged, the wind like an aggressive intruder. The sky was angry and vainly, she always believed it was directed upon her; the lightning was a strike and the thunder was a bellow. She knew she had wronged God, but she was paying the price; the letter, forever seared into her bosom, and the guilt she not only carried for the both of them, but for her estranged husband and father. They, too, had been unwittingly dragged into the drama.

If she had not succumbed to temptation, all would be well.

A girl, heavenly and kind, who was raised with utmost morals and sanctity—a minister's daughter no less!—had become the slut and shame of the village. She had married respectably and was educated—surely she could make something great of herself. No, for Yui was guided by her heart not her head. Her mind had always been optimistic and fanciful. After all, love was a dizzying spell of hopes and dreams. A fairy tale with a happy ending. But then she awoke with the first bout of morning sickness and realised that reality was a cruel narrator.

There had never been a moment were she regretted what she had done. This life that they had created was the only piece of him that she could solidly behold. It was their living consequence, and to many, a gift from the devil.

Yui prayed that the child would not look like their father. She could not bind their hair or shroud their eyes; he would be revealed instantly, and it would have all been for nothing. Selfish her silence may seem, she did it to protect him, to preserve his honour and dignity. She would not allow him to sink; she gave him her only lifeboat.

Berating her clumsiness, she winced as she bent to retrieve the book, her rounded stomach becoming a daily obstacle. Striking a match, she ignited the wick once more, and with a hand cupping the flame, she ventured over to the window to draw the curtains. They were moth-eaten and they did little to drown out the light, but she hoped it would at least veil the lightning.

Yet the sight out of the window surprised her. Slumped against the trunk of an oak and sopping with rain situated a man. Squinting, she rubbed the condensation from the glass, the smudge of red clearing to define sharp features. Her eyes flitted to the pile of garments folded on the stool, the very ones she had repaired for his mother.

"That man," Yui disapproved. "Coming out in such weather..."

Fetching her cloak, she whipped the hood and rushed outside. Her boots squelched the earth, puddled and sticky, the rain froze her fingers as she gripped the wool of her mantle. Dandelions flowered around him; it was a durable plant which did not droop with the storm's thrashes. He shifted when she approached, blinking away the haze, as though Yui was an apparition spun from his imagination. Lips pulled downwards, he fiddled with a sagging, deflated pouch; it did not jangle with coins.

"Ayato? What on earth—you're going to catch your death!" said she, extending a hand. "Please, come inside—"

He swatted it away. "Did," he began, his breath hitching. "Yours Truly ask for your pathetic charity?"

His words were a bramble sting. Wringing her hands, Yui inched closer to see the right side of his face swollen and contused. She resisted the urge to reach out to him. He was in pain, both mentally and physically, and nothing tugged at her heartstrings more than the suffering of others. She wanted to help, but she knew a caress or an embrace would not cure an ailment. Her fingers recoiled into her palm.

"Subaru," was her first thought. "Did the two of you get into a fight?"

She recalled the countless occasions when Subaru and Ayato—both stupidly intoxicated—would stumble into her cottage in the early hours of the morning, reeking of stale alcohol and painted in cuts and bruises. Yui, with a hand clutching her heart, would berate them for the scare, but continue to usher them inside to tend to their wounds.

Then, with the panting of a horse, Shu would arrive. He was unimpressed at being awoken at an ungodly hour to hunt for his missing brother and would tease him mercilessly—had he shamefully spent the night in Miss Komori's bed? Or, what a shame it was that he had been found alive; a cold body in the woods would have been a quieter find. Subaru would rage, but it disagreed with his hangover. He sulked while Shu caught up on his sleep with his head atop the table.

Sometimes, Ayato's two brothers would join the mass and Yui would be bestowed with the task of breakfast. A full house, full of life, where for the briefest of moments neither rank nor sex mattered; they were a family. Nothing would be the same again.

"That albino creep? As if!"

His words lost their usual vigour, spoken in stutters from pale, wet lips. Ayato had stopped fussing with the money pouch; his hands had cramped and flushed purple. Yui tightened her cloak. "Then who?"

"An ugly, wild dog, that's who," he laughed, revelling in an inside joke. "What were you thinking, huh? That someone as strong as me would allow a mere brute to disfigure such a face? Like hell I'd let that happen!"

"Still... won't you come inside? I can treat the skin..." her eyes welled at his shivering form. "Oh, Ayato—sitting outside in the rain! You're bound to catch a chill. I've seen countless men die in their beds over a fever. I cannot bare to see you the same. Not when my cottage is so near—not when I'm able to help!"

"Don't you listen? Like I said, I don't need your—"

"I know," she interrupted softly. "Then how about you pay me with the honour of your company?"

He blew and rubbed his hands, turning away with the knit of his brows. He was mulling it over. "You have meat?" he asked and Yui blinked at his odd request. "You'll make Yours Truly some food. You're a woman, so you're good at that stuff, right?"

"Y-Yes, I believe so. They're leftovers from the castle," she smiled. "Subaru Sakamaki wouldn't _dare_ be so kind."

"Kind my ass! More like he doesn't wanna be lumbered with the guilt of discovering your bones come winter." He snorted and steam swirled from his nostrils, like a dragon from an old fable. "It's a stupid thing to think highly of us men. We're only interested in one thing, and one thing only."

It was true—all men were guilty of yielding to carnal desires, and prostitutes tended to be the favourite; a woman's body was an object of purchase and bliss. In this aspect, Subaru Sakamaki was no different. Ayato knew him to be an unruly noble who he used as a spar and a drinking partner.

Oppositely, she knew him to be a boy who once hid his tears over a rabbit tangled in a snare, who gave to the poor and was aggressive because of his frustration with the world, not out of cruelty. He _was_ kind, and she fought for the redemption of his character. Townsfolk would laugh in disbelief or point to a blackened eye or a damaged ware. He wanted to be hated, it seemed; yet she could never oblige.

Ayato muttered a mean remark about his half-brother and rose to his feet, his bones creaking from the cold. The rain was relentless and the wind burned their cheeks, fat droplets hurdling over every curve on their faces. His hair had darkened and was plastered to his forehead like pieces of seaweed, his shirt moulded to the shape of his torso. Water had seeped through the fabric of her cloak and she shivered; they needed to take shelter.

Before she knew it, Ayato was ahead of her, waiting at the cottage door. His nose was red and his lips were thin, and with one hand resting upon his hip, he was the image of impatience. It was as though the temperature had only just dawned on him.

"Oi, what are you waiting for? Quit with your dallying and open up. Yours Truly is freezing out here."

"You don't have to wait for me. Please, just open it."

"You think I haven't tried?" He grit his teeth and shook the handle, but it remained stubborn and static. "C'mon! I ain't waiting around in this creepy forest any longer. Or," he grinned, struck by a possibility. "Do you think that tableware freak is lurking somewhere in the trees? That stuck-up guy... he has some gall questioning me."

"He suspects you," she realised, swallowing thickly. "I'm—"

"Sorry? What, afraid you've bruised the great Yours Truly's dignity? Save your breath. It takes more than the likes of him to break _me._ " Ayato's eyes hardened as he extended a palm. "Key. _Now."_

"Oh no," Yui blanched. To confirm her fears, she lurched and rattled the handle, but to no avail, the door would not budge. "I-I'm sorry, but—"

He shifted his weight to circulate blood flow. "Some host you are, Breastless. Remind me to seek you out again in a storm. Jeez, what a joke!"

"W-We could climb through the window—?"

"Don't flatter yourself," he eyed her stomach. "Like you'd fit." He sighed and flexed numb fingers before rummaging in his pocket. "You're lucky I'm here to save you. Otherwise that Sakamaki bastard would be scaring the crows come morning from picking at your flesh."

She wanted to correct him that the only reason she ventured out in the storm was to help him, but thought better of it; let him relish in his glory. With his tongue poking out in concentration, Ayato picked the lock with a thin stick of metal, and with a satisfying click, the door unlocked.

"Do you make a habit of breaking into other people's homes?"

His eyes flashed. "Only if it suits me."

They stepped inside and their desire to be engulfed in warmth was not met. Yui made it her first priority to light the hearth while Ayato slumped into a chair and discarded his boggy shoes. She splintered her skin as she tossed logs into the grate, but with her damp, cramped hands, she struggled igniting the wood. Her companion grumbled about the chill and she was soon darkened by his shadow.

"You sure are pathetic." He snatched the flint and steel and grinded them together, sparks flying onto his bare wrists. He had dried his hands, but his skin was wet, the small balls of light sizzling as it made contact. "What, this sort of thing amaze you?" He raised an eyebrow as he watched her eyes bore into the newly born flames, their cheeks rosy and grateful for the heat.

"I suppose," she murmured, her eyes as scarlet as the stigma binded to her chest. "Fire... it's a dangerous thing. We dance around bonfires and seek its warmth and light, forgetting how easily it could turn against us. Mishandled... and everything will be brought to ash," she faced him with a flicker of a smile. "At least, that's what Reiji told me once."

Ayato's hair was brilliant by the fireside. He rolled his eyes and prodded the wood, the flames roaring and licking the brickwork. "See, that's what happens when you read too much," he nodded upwards to the mantelpiece. "You sound like that hysteric, always gawking at the flames with a threat on the tip of his tongue. What a psycho... lucky he's not a woman though, huh? He'd be sunk to the bottom of a lake or burned at the stake by our old man by now."

Noticing her horrified expression, he laughed, the sound boisterous and loud. "That another one of his tricks?" he asked, his gaze trained upon the letter. "Jeez, what a stupid place to put it! At least stick it somewhere to divert the attention from your tits. C'mon... it ain't your best asset!"

Yui opened her mouth to defend herself from his derogation, but instead, she bit her tongue and stood, her father's words echoing in her mind. _'The world is unfair, and in this world, it can be a wise thing for a woman to pick her battles.'_

"Please, Ayato, try to keep warm," urged she, setting down a soft sheepskin blanket at his feet. She knew if it were to be offered directly it would be refused; his pride was fragile and he would use it on his own terms or not at all. "I need to fetch some ointment for your cheek."

Ayato groaned and nodded, continuing to feed and poke the fire. Reiji had formed a habit of keeping roots which were integrated into daily usage—and the ones he deemed basic enough for his wife to experiment with—in the kitchen; his study was off-limits. The cupboards were sparse, dusty and cobwebbed, with a higher ratio of jars than food. They housed medicinal herbs and even after many years, they still donned their labels. Spotted in unidentifiable stains, the doctor's neat and connected hand provided each inscription.

 _Symphytum; comfrey._

 _Apply to sprains, cuts, bruises, burns,_

 _and any other mild skin disfigurement._

Yui unscrewed the lid and sprinkled a handful of leaves into the mortar, adding water and grinding the mixture until it reached a paste consistency. When she returned to the space, Ayato had nestled into the sheepskin down while his hair—having dried by the fireside—waved and flicked. The blue-tinged pallor of his skin had warmed and she felt her body relax. It was probable that he would develop a sniffle, but if he looked after himself with a full stomach and plenty of rest, a fever could be kept at bay.

"I know it appears unpleasant," she started, eyes lowered to the moss-green pulp. "But trust me, it will soothe the skin and quicken its repair."

Yet by the sour contour of his features, her words did little to reassure him. "Ugh... gross! No, no—battle wounds are cool!" he piped. "They can serve as a reminder to any bastard with the nerve to challenge me. That gunk," he gestured to her hands. "Get rid of it. Yours Truly will wear his bruises with pride."

She exhaled. "Then I hope you're prepared for any possible scarring."

The healed, fleshy wound which slashed across Reiji's cheekbone came to mind; Ayato's eyes widened. "S-Scarring?" Yui nodded and circled to face the cupboards. "Oi, Breastless! Come here. It's below me to apply such a thing... but a woman fussing over me? Well, that ain't a bad sight."

"Then please, try to hold still." Yui brightened and fought a smile. "You men," she tutted, "are such fickle creatures."

She scooped the paste onto a finger and smoothed it over his skin. Ayato hissed with the sting, the sound simmering into a sigh as the ointment settled. Her eyes narrowed in inspection: his cheek was raw and swollen—as though slapped—and faintly yellow as a bruise began to flourish. There were several long and crusted gashes which appeared to be implemented by a clawed animal, further supported by his cryptic explanation underneath the canopy of the oak.

Ayato had picked up the empty pouch and resumed fiddling with the draw-string. His eyebrows and lips were taut, the vibrancy of his eyes dim and distant. He was troubled, and Yui's gaze switched to the heap of garments folded on the stool of her needle. Black and lilac—she made the connection at once.

"A-Ayato," she dropped her hand. "The reason why you ventured here—"

"What a shame," he cut her words with a tug on her dress. "Too bad all this fat couldn't have swelled your chest out instead, huh?" He paused and made eye contact. "What'd you want?"

Yui swept her fingers over her belly. "It's in God's hands," she answered, monotonous and practiced. "I only wish for a healthy babe."

"Quit being a bore," his eyes rolled. "C'mon. If you could choose, what'd you pick?"

She wiped her fingers on the cloth of her apron, leaving trails of green like the stains from dewy grass. His question stewed in her mind—what _did_ she want? Yui didn't occupy her thoughts in conventional motherly daydreams. Many expectant women obsessed over myths suspecting gender, the baby's appearance, or their temperament. She couldn't enjoy the short period of pregnancy for she was alone and afraid. Fear of harm—either to herself or her unborn child—dangled and teased wherever there was a whisper of light.

"A boy," she decided. "Then perhaps people will be forgiving. It would be easier for him to make a life for himself separate from his mother's shame. A girl, however..." she cringed and absently stirred the mixture. "Well, what an unlucky fate it is to be born on the wrong side of the coin."

"Figures," Ayato snorted and rocked back on the chair. "Why don't you pray to your pathetic God then? Hey, why you're at it, pray that the kid'll grow up to be half as great as Yours Truly!" He tapped his fingernails against the wood. "Y'know... you'd think that old hag would treat us a bit better considering her luck."

Yui's eyes softened, knowing his mother's treatment affected him more than he liked to acknowledge. He noticed her sympathetic stare and jerked to his feet, the chair narrowly escaping becoming fodder for the flames. He prodded a finger into her collarbone, lips a mischievous slant.

"You'll name it after me, right?"

She humoured him with a smile and a nod.

 **.:.**

It was clear that Ayato intended to stay the night when he bounced down into her bed, the rusty springs groaning underneath him. Yui had no qualms; in fact, she was on the verge of suggesting it herself. It was nightfall and the storm continued, and with his dampened spirit and the occasional sniffle, she could not allow him to return home. The forest was dangerous at such a late hour. Bandits lurked in the treetops, waiting to ambush an unsuspecting carriage in the early morning light.

To appease his continuous complaints of hunger, she cooked a pot of stew. She reheated the fatty pheasant and chipped rot from the vegetables. It was watery and tasteless, but Ayato knew no different. He ate with uncivilized vigour, spraying gravy across his cheeks, the beads clinging onto stubble. Afterwards, he nursed the bloat with a bottle of whisky. It served as an antiseptic, yet the barmaid's son had other intentions.

Before she had been married, she once cooked for the two Sakamaki brothers. As their palettes were spoilt, they were repulsed by the bland and stale broth before them. Subaru attempted to mask his grimace with a smile and awarded her effort. Shu, meanwhile, was devoid of tact. After one mouthful, he stood and wordlessly poured the contents out of the window. It served a better purpose for the flowers, he had said, and even then they were likely to die. The heir left soon after to attend to business, but not without remarking that he hoped she would never marry. Subaru helped her clean the dishes.

Presently, Yui was stacking the dirty earthenware bowls; she would wash them in the stream once the weather calmed. In the kitchen, she heard the sloshing of liquor as Ayato drank. He was tipsy with a loose tongue and she knew his troubles would be spilled. He was reckless by nature and when fused with a gamblers habit, the outcome was disastrous. Cordelia longed for riches, and Ayato, burdened with illegitimacy and poverty, knew the only way to fulfill his mother's wish was by testing his hand at poker. When victorious, the man would be euphoric, yet when defeated, he would wallow. Yui often stumbled upon form—as she had today—abusing substances to numb the ache of his worthlessness.

"The sun will punish your head tomorrow," said Yui, entering the room with a light smile. "Here, try to drink some water." She placed the cup on the nightstand, but Ayato ignored her and continued to tip the neck of the bottle. "Are you hungry? There's still stew in the pot that I can warm for you. You might feel better with a line on your stomach."

Mutely, he shook his head and fingered the peeling label. He mimicked the black clouds weeping above them; his despondency unnerved her. "Oh, Ayato." The bridge of her nose creased as she tucked her skirts to sit beside him. "Please know that you can talk to me freely. I may be a useless ear, but I promise you, I will listen."

He lifted his eyes, unfocused and webbed red. "For someone like me, who's the greatest at everything," he slurred, waving the half-emptied bottle. Whisky escaped and stained the bed-sheets; Yui grimaced at the acidic stench. "Man... do I have rotten luck."

Yui took his hands into her own; they were cold and calloused with dirt rimmed cuticles. Her gaze was gentle as she ran her thumb along his knuckles. It was a method which she often applied to young children whilst Reiji concentrated on a procedure. It was comfort, it was a distraction, and it was warmth. "Money isn't everything, Ayato," she said. "It may define your image, but never your character."

His hands limped. "It ain't fair," he grumbled. "Those two bastards sitting all high-and-mighty up on the hill don't care for riches or fame. It's the only thing that matters. To think... if I'd been born under another circumstance... I could've had it. I could've bathed in gold. Yours Truly would've been the best Lord this village had ever seen."

"It comes with a price."

Her attention flitted to Ayato's hands, and at his words, she thought of Shu with his quill and his twitching, ink-stained fingers. He was a prisoner of his position, defeated and listless. He did not want the wealth and attention which Ayato so desperately sought; he wanted to be free from constraint. All would be well if the two half-brothers had switched fates.

Subaru noted that his violin melodies were sombre nowadays. Sadness sunk into the pit of her stomach. Yui remembered Shu's beam as he played quick, upbeat jigs, the notes vibrating through the crisp forest clearing. Subaru would sit on a fallen trunk and clap and tap his feet, too embarrassed to accept her hand to dance. Her dress would swish against her thighs whenever she twirled, the rush of exhilaration bubbling in the back of her throat as the chorus peaked.

Yui jolted from her reverie with the red-head's snore. His head lolled against the headrest and she itched to prop a pillow behind him to avoid a stiff neck. His mouth was agape and dribbling salvia, but the furrow between his brows had smoothed and his hands had loosened on the bottle. He was finally at peace and would sleep through the storm. She exhaled; she would not be so lucky. Ease had settled into her far too soon; her companion was unconscious and drunk and would provide little comfort for her fears.

With a shuddery exhale, she fetched her shawl. Night-time winds were darker and harsher, and the fire had finally spat out its dying breath. The book lay facedown on the mantelpiece and the master's old handkerchief dangled precariously from the brickwork. The tips had blackened and were patched in soot; the sight made her uncomfortable. Yui attempted to blow away the dust, but it remained chained to the fibres. The whiteness was soiled.

Her fingers pulled back the curtain, the glass dripping behind flares of lightning. Her grip slipped and shifted to her rosary, the silver cold at the touch. Thunder cracked and the ground beneath her trembled, and unintentionally, Yui caught her reflection in the windowpane: she was petrified and wide-eyed, her hair scraggly and her cheeks tracked and glistening.

"Please," she implored, her plea sincere and vague. Was it for the thunderstorm to cease? Or something much deeper? "I beg of you, let me have peace!"

Nothing responded. The storm persisted, as did her sobs, forming a steady rhythm with Ayato's snores.


	6. Seen, Not Heard

**.:. 6 .:.**

She awoke stiffened and disorientated beside the hearth. Soot had darkened her light hair, the strands as dusty as chalk. Yui reeked of charcoal, but the air smelled sweet. The perfume of cold skies and wet earth almost made her forget the terrorisation of the storm.

Ayato occupied the bed in a tangle of sheets and limbs. His pores emitted traces of alcohol, and she knew he would not rouse until noon. Quietly, she wandered over to the window; it was a crisp morning and the mist was low. The sun sucked droplets from the windowpane, ridding any reminder of yesterdays rainfall. The clear weather lifted her spirits and Yui was determined to make the most of the day.

She fetched her basket and packed it with dirty dishes and laundry. Pushing aside the nettles and shrubs, she gathered her skirts to sit on a pillow of mossy rock. Yui tipped a bowl to rid the collected water and grabbed another; she did not hear any approaching footfalls. The noise of the bubbling brook drowned even the loudest bird song.

"Miss Yui," said a young voice. "The holy father said I might find you here."

Yui startled and dropped the dish. It bobbed along the stream like a boat, but she did not chase it. Instead, she turned to face the owner of the voice. It was little Sora, his freckles ripe in the sunshine. His lips and fingers were stained purple from the elderberries.

"Sora! I was going to drop by after the Sunday service."

Her fright softened into a smile. She shifted her basket and patted the boulder beside her. Sora reacted to the gesture in his usual timid fashion, with an unsure mouth and twisting hands. He soon decided that no harm could come from joining the minister's daughter by the riverside and was cautious about his footing on the slimy stones. He offered her some of his berries, but she only smiled kindly and shook her head. This confused him.

He remembered his mother's swollen belly. She had a large appetite and snatched all the food he and his father stole. Their stomachs growled throughout the night, but hers was a bottomless pit. His baby sister was born still and silent. His attention caught the fabric which Yui straightened on her lap and he thought of her tiny cotton shroud. He closed his eyes and sketched the cross.

"Follow the forest flowers, the father said, an' then you'll find her," said Sora, so hushed that Yui strained over the rushing water.

"He seeks me—did he give a reason?" she asked, and Sora shook his head and tucked his knees tighter under his chin; he disliked the splashes. "Oh. I'm sure he's only worried. I should visit more often, but..." she exhaled. "I would only hurt his heart."

His head tilted in question. "He talks much of you."

Yui forced a smile and ruffled his shaggy hair. "I won't burden you with such a tale."

Children did not understand the connotations of her scarlet letter. Bulging, naïve eyes would peer upwards in awe at the glittering thing, under the illusion that she was a wealthy maiden or a princess from a foreign land.

"You're looking much healthier, Sora," said she, tone bright. "I'm glad. Being appointed as the minister's ward is a blessing for you both. My father's too old and weary to carry out basic duties. He longs for company. Quiet, company, I think," she laughed. "I was a troublesome child and caused nothing but a headache."

The orphan was scrawny, but his face had plumped out the gaunt by the food shared at the reverend's table. It glowed from the exertion of his chores. Yui herself remembered how tiring sweeping the long church aisles had been, and the pain in her wrist as she polished the delicate glass. He vocalized more and was gradually shedding his shyness. But Sora was mellow by nature—a quiet, harmless soul who carefully selected his words. It was not a bad way to be for a child so young.

"He's as kind as you, Miss Yui." He held her gaze for a brief moment before it scurried to the elder twig; only the inedible berries remained. "You... are a strange lady. Most wouldn't 'ave spared me a glance in that market-place. I'll be forever thankful to you."

Yui blinked and her cheeks heated. She never received thanks, nor did she carry out good deeds to receive it. Her kindness was innate and reducing suffering was as natural as breathing. However saving the cowering orphan was done with another intention—guilt.

"You know... you remind me a lot of someone. His eyes are like yours, as blue as water. They were as lifeless as his that day. I realised long ago that I could not save him." She rotated her head and was surprised to meet his eyes. His dark-blond hair had curled from the spray of water. "But I _could_ save you."

"Who is he?"

"You'll know of him," she answered, returning her attention towards the unclean dishes. Sora did not respond immediately. He stared at his hands until the words came to him.

"The... the _king?"_

Yui giggled, suddenly reminded of his age. He had an oldness about him; a maturity. "Yes—how did you _know?"_

Sora threw her a sideward glance; he did not believe her jesting tongue. "So... you're his queen?" He humoured her as the two of them slipped into a rhythm; Yui washed while the boy sought flat, sun-spotted surfaces to set the earthenware. It was monotonous work, but it gave him purpose. "His wife?"

Yui choked on air and hid herself in linen. "M-Me? No, no. I'm unfit to be by his side."

He frowned and it crinkled his nose. "Then... a friend?"

She dipped a finger into the water, the currents strong from the pressure of its swollen banks. Old sounds of childhood laughter seemed to intermingle with the blare, and she could not bring herself to withdraw. "I'm afraid not," she said, voice low. "I am nothing."

 **.:.**

Yui warmed a bowl of broth for Sora whilst she changed into her church finery. It was a weekday, but she did not want to witness her father's scrutiny for donning a marled dress under God's holy roof. She wore scarlet and her letter melted into transparency.

Ayato still draped the mattress, his snores throaty and stuttering. Yui had placed a solitary finger against her lips when she led Sora into the cottage. His blue gaze was set upon this unfamiliar, alcohol stinking man, his pupils flooding with questions. His lips pressed thin; it would be unwise for him to pry. Sora nodded and agreed to silence. Yui's eyes softened in gratitude.

"Is he the king?" Sora burst in the freedom of the barn. The cob's whiskers tickled his outstretched palm. "I didn't see his eyes."

"No, he is not," said Yui. "His are green."

Sora whined. "But Miss Yui, many a men have blue eyes. They're as common as weeds."

"Look up high and you'll find him."

The boy gaped, his brows disappearing into his hair. "You don't mean... _God?"_

Yui laughed and said nothing else; she was debating her mode of transport. It would be easier for her to travel by cart and not suffer with sickness from a rocking saddle. Yet the woodlands would be flooded and the mud would be thick; the wheels would submerge. Earl was a temperamental stallion and he rarely let a rider mount. He wasn't fidgety or aggressive like Subaru's horses; he was lazy and would stay rooted to the spot no matter how deep ones heels squeezed.

She decided to try her luck and lifted the bridle; she did not fancy a hem caked in mud. As predicted, Earl was resilient. Each time Yui neared and coaxed the bit, he butted it away with his nose, his head flung high. Sora found the steed amusing and slapped his neck, his muzzle taking wisps of hay from his hand. The animal's deep brown eyes laughed as they stared at his flustered owner. Yui hung the bridle and rested her back against a wooden beam. She, too, found the horse endearing at times; Reiji did not. He believed lazy creatures to be useless and ought to be permanently silenced.

Yui sprinkled grain for the poultry and wiped her hands on a mottled fur. "Let us go, Sora. My father will already be unhappy at us traipsing mud throughout the church. We cannot anger him with our lateness."

The duo fled the musty stable and began the forest path. The earth was boggy and dead leaves floated in puddles. Yui hiked up her skirts and slugged through the mud, fighting to remain optimistic even as her woolen stockings soaked.

 **.:.**

Ayato awoke at noon with the peevish streaks of golden sun. His body felt heavy and his head pulsed. It was quiet— _too quiet._ His ears hadn't become victim to his mother's shrieks, nor had he heard either one of his brothers' clamour. Laito sometimes played the piano, with Kanato perched on the stairway, singing. The notes were soft and sorrowful. It would last until customers streamed through the tavern doors, then Cordelia would snap her fingers and the music would shift to a crowd-pleasing jig. Kanato would potter about with a broom while ale was thrust into his hands: a new day, begun.

Today was different. He heard the wind moving through trees, gushing water and birds. The pillow smelled of lavender. Ayato's eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. He saw stars from his quick movement, and after a moment, the interior of Yui Komori's cottage. The woman wasn't present. She was a fool devoted to God and would probably be sat in prayer. His eyes inwardly rolled.

He rose and blundered into the kitchen, taking the bowl of stew she had left out for him. It was cold and he ate with a grimace, dreaming of pies fat with meat and oozing cheese. Ayato poked his head into each of the cupboards, seeking a better option. But he was not a rabbit and could not be satisfied with herbs and roots. He tore at some stale bread and washed down his meal with a swig of whisky.

With the bottle tucked underneath his arm, he rounded the cottage, like a magpie hunting for something that glittered. Yui was as destitute as he, and unsurprisingly, nothing caught his eye; the dwelling was barren and dotted in useless keepsakes. She did not ache for gold like he; she was Subaru's little pet. She would survive the winter if she kept in his favour.

Ayato reached the mantelpiece, his bare feet blackened by the embers. He thumbed through the books, hoping to find a coin or two wedged between the pages. All that met his fingertips was the touch of cotton—a handkerchief.

"Subaru Sakamaki, huh?" he assumed, his eyes flickering over the initials. "Giving away a favour like this," he clicked his tongue. "What a soft bastard."

He was sorely tempted to pocket the cloth in order to taunt his younger brother, or use it as blackmail for a set of elaborate robes and juicy red-meat. But something told him to let it be. The fabric was charred—perhaps it was an omen. It dropped from his hand with a flinch; he could not afford anymore strokes of bad luck.

He shuffled into his shoes, the animal-hide dry and stiff from the night-time fire. The taste of liquor hung heavy on his tongue, and with his empty pouch dangling from his belt, he left her house with tossed-back shoulders and a head held high. Ayato did not see the dark-haired rider watching him from behind the shadow of trees.

 **.:.**

On his borrowed horse, Reiji ambled down the castle hillside. Once reaching the woodland border, he dug in his heels and its strides lengthened, his hands taut around the reins as his steed leaped over a set of high and mangled roots. He was not a strong rider, but he didn't let his inexperience show; his back was straight and not a whisper of fear crossed his face.

By the shape of the old oak and the cluster of dandelions, he knew he had arrived at the cottage. Yui Komori would be well on her way to the church—on foot, he presumed. She may be a fool, but even she would have realised the impossibility of pulling a cart after a storm. He released a sigh; finally he was terminating their union. Her infidelity tarnished his name and he itched to be free from it.

As Reiji squinted to see past the foliage, he felt a pang of nostalgia. They hadn't loved each other, but her company had grown tolerable and inviting over the years. Yes, her habits irked him: how she would waltz about with bare feet and a dirtied frock and her sheer disobedience. Yet some things he found pleasant: the way she brewed his tea, her supple fingers tying his cravat, or the warm pitch of her voice as she wished him well before he headed to the surgery.

He heard the groan of old hinges; the doctor frowned, his glasses sliding down his nose. Hadn't the woman left? Hadn't she received the message? Nudging on his horse, he saw a figure with confident, drunken steps leaving his wife's cottage. The man's hair gleamed scarlet in the sunshine. He did not take the beaten track. He clambered and batted away the thick woodland, vanishing in an instant, like the quick draw of a cloak.

Ayato, his host's bastard son. He thought of Shu Sakamaki and his cryptic answers and his sad, vacant stare. The young master suffered with ill-health and the doctor assumed that the cause was a heart blackened with guilt. Had his accusations been wrong? Reiji could not think of a logical reason behind Ayato's visit unless he was, indeed, Yui Komori's secret lover. His mind spun in confusion.

Dazed, he gripped the saddle's front for support as his horse cantered through the wilderness. Reiji did not know how long he had been riding until he caught a glimpse of blonde and crimson. Yui and a young boy—with features like a squirrel—gathered around a bush bearing black fruit.

"Blackberries are much sweeter, Sora," he heard her say. "Though they are trickier to find in these woods. Don't you find the elderberries sour?"

"Food is food, Miss Yui."

"Yes," she agreed. "You are quite right. I am in no position to be fussy."

They heard his horse approach and turned, their small statures dwarfed by the height. Reiji gave a curt nod in greeting, his lips pulled thin as his eyes traveled to her wet and mucky hem. Underneath the cover of her kerchief peeped a frame of unbrushed strands, and even with her sleep deprived face, her heavy stomach and the animosity set between them, she still had the nerve to smile up at him.

"Good grief, Yui Komori. It is impossible to tell whether your dress is scarlet or brown."

Her smile did not falter, though he noticed her companion shuffle into her shadow. "Reiji, good morning."

"Good _afternoon_ to you as well," corrected he with a passing glance towards the midday sun. "I'll assume that your journey so far has been tolerable?"

Yui repressed a laugh from his stiff attempt to make conversation. Reiji was cold and calculative, but he was obsessive towards etiquette. One could not pass by an acquaintance without engaging in needless discourse. "Yes, I suppose," said she. "Though it would have been easier with a yielding horse."

He expected nothing less. Yui habitually brought home stray cats and dogs with their flea-ridden coats and frothing jaws, or mauled birds with their snapped wings and blood-stained feathers for him to cure. So of course she still kept Earl, who at best pulled a cart with a clumsy, apathetic trot.

"You still own that old thing? What use is an animal if it cannot bend to the whims of its master? Well, I'm certain your appearance would have fared better if you possessed an ounce of sense."

"I haven't the heart to cast him out. Besides, I like to walk. But..." she wriggled and yanked a foot out of the deep, sticky earth. "I like it much better when I can see the toes of my boots."

"Indeed," Reiji hummed, his chin tilted high. It was a snobbish stance and Yui flushed, suddenly conscious of her apparel.

She'd never been good enough for him. She was his most frustrating project; a piece of clay who would not shape to his hands. As much as she tried, she hadn't borne him sons, nor had she fulfilled the role of a diligent housewife. Her heart had remained young, as free as a cricket skipping the stones on the riverbank. But Reiji had noticed a change in her once he arrived back on home soil. Her carefree spirit had ebbed as soon as the scarlet letter was planted onto her chest. It had forced her to grow, to mature; her spirit had flourished into a determined, protective fire.

"Though at your sluggish pace," said the doctor, pulling the reins of his restless horse. "It is inevitable that you will delay our meeting."

"O-Our meeting?" she repeated, dumbly. "You're heading to the church too?"

"Yes," he said, his gaze settled a little behind her. The young boy had seized a branch scarcely smaller than himself and was drawing patterns in the mud. Yui looked over her shoulder and smiled; it was teethless and warm, a smile that spread to crinkle and glitter her eyes. Reiji prickled at the sight. "But it appears," he continued, "that your father's messenger is a mute that cannot convey given information. You have a fine habit, Yui Komori, of attaching yourself to useless things."

She wasn't the sort of woman to hiss or snarl out a reply in anger, but the pitch of her voice grew shrill. "Sora is _very_ helpful," she insisted, her hands taking fistfuls of her skirt. "Both to me and my father. I will not have his shyness seen as a fault," then she added, lower, calmer, and with a note of sadness, "not when the streets still haunt him."

The subject of the child didn't interest him and he gave a sigh of impatience. Talk was becoming a distraction and he wanted their divorce finalized while the hour was still light. He was about to heave her up onto his horse, unwilling to wait at the church for an hour or two whilst she dallied along the path, but his hand returned to the reins. With the jangling of metal, a golden head emerged atop his white mare. Unlike Reiji, Shu had a natural affinity for horseback riding. Even Subaru's horses rebelled less when the heir was strapped into their saddle.

"Ah, speaking of useless things," Reiji murmured, his grip on the reins suddenly short and tight; the horse dragged its head down. "Here comes the man of the hour."

Shu was twisted backwards. He still wore his nightshirt, tucked into a pair of breeches. It was only when they neared did Subaru become visible, sat behind his brother with his boots slotted into the stirrups. He lolled against Shu's shoulder, drunk and semi-conscious, with his pea-green overcoat draped over him.

"Listen, you brat," his voice was sharp; he was grouchy when his sleep was disturbed. _"Hold on._ I've exerted myself enough going to that stinking place to get you—" His speech was cut when his mare—a sensitive, faint-hearted thing—sensed another of its kind and spooked, her eyes rimmed white. Shu looked down in confusion, seizing Subaru's arm to keep him from falling. He soothed the horse with hushed sounds and turned, with a face full of accusation, to the trio huddled beside the blackberry shrub. He rubbed his temples. "What an annoying coincidence."

"Hardly," said Reiji, terse. "There's only one beaten-path through the forest and I gather neither of us would rejoice in getting impaled by thorns."

Yet by the smile playing on Shu's lips, it was clear that he _would_ rejoice if the physician came by such an injury. "You know," he drawled, peeling Subaru's cheek from his drool-stained shirt. "I'd loosen those reins... unless you favour a cracked skull."

Reiji made a sound of disgust. "I do not think it _wise_ to take advice from a person who sleeps more than the given hours in a day. You obviously have no time to acquire any sort of _useful_ information."

"Fine," he shrugged. "Do what you want. Your life means nothing to me. You're a doctor, you can treat yourself." Shu turned towards Yui, who had busied herself in conversation with the reverend's young ward. He had created a picture with twigs and leaves and pine cones. It reminded him of one of the castle's autumnal tapestries. He watched the woman, nonspeaking, until Reiji's glower became unbearable. Part of him wanted to grab her face into his hands and kiss her, just to witness the uptight doctor squirm. He called out and beckoned her over.

"M-Master Shu," she greeted, as though testing the words on her tongue. She curtsied low and he wondered how she managed it, being so heavy with child.

"Don't waste your time," said he, half-amused. "I'm not getting off my horse to pry your face out of the mud."

Subaru, mad with drink and sleep, mockingly imitated her curtsy and almost toppled from the horse's back. Shu snatched his collar and yanked him upright. He was growing tired of babysitting and wanted nothing more than to return to bed. But it would be impossible. His father had organised a feast and the castle was buzzing with the preparation, like a thousand pestering wasps in his ear.

Suddenly, Subaru retched and vomited, the foul liquid pooling the leaves.

"Oh, Subaru," Yui whispered, smoothing back his hair. His eyes fluttered shut and he resumed using Shu's back as a pillow. "Look how drink ruins you."

"And my boots," added Shu, sighing. "What a bother."

"Yui—come," Reiji called, circling his horse. Whether accidental or not, its hooves crushed the pine cones decorating Sora's little picture. He sulked silently, bursting blackberries between his fingers.

"Y-Yes, just a moment!" she called back, continuing to stroke Subaru's head. The youngest murmured something inaudible and found her hand; he hadn't even remembered to blush. "Shu," she began, lifting her eyes. They were teary, set back against an expression thick with worry. "Are... are you doing well?"

"Obviously, you dense woman... why wouldn't I be?"

He lied through his teeth. Shu was sickly at the castle door, but until she stood before him, she hadn't realised the severity. He had always suffered with migraines—something hereditary from his mother—but they were becoming frequent, she had learned, through Subaru's passing remarks. He was thinner with eyes so black Yui was inclined to ask if he had been caught up in a fight. His eyes were a dull, clouded blue-grey, and if it wasn't for the rise and fall of his chest, she wouldn't have deemed him alive. She would give all she had to see those eyes sparkle in laughter, to see that happy, childhood blue again.

She noticed his gaze stray to her chest, where her finger traced the outline of the letter's golden thread. Swallowing bile, her lips fixed into an awkward smile. "Shu, my eyes are up here."

Indeed, he soon found her eyes, but he did not take the joke. He simply stared at her, silent and expressionless. Then, hesitantly, he reached out, as though approaching a skittish creature. For a moment, Yui believed that he would rip the letter from her dress and stamp out its beauty with his horse's hoof. But he didn't; he recoiled, closed his eyes, and massaged his forehead.

"What... what is _that?"_

"My punishment," she answered. "A lesson, a prison—whichever I prefer. All are equally cruel."

"And still..." he spoke though gritted teeth. "You will not have him speak? You... you will not speak _for_ him?"

"Never," she said, and the softness in her voice shrivelled. "I know you—most people, even—think me selfish. But please believe me, I am protecting—"

"It grieves me to intrude on such a _thrilling_ conversation," interrupted Reiji, appearing at Shu's side. "But we have business to attend to, and I must take back my wife—"

"—for her divorce? Whatever... I'm leaving anyways. I don't have the energy to engage in worthless conversation." He faced Yui. "Tonight... there's a feast at the castle. No doubt Subaru will bring you a basket at the earliest opportunity." He clucked on his horse and turned in the direction of the castle, halting when she called his name.

"Shu! Please... please look after yourself."

"What effort," he scoffed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Why don't you take your own advice? You'll be in childbed once winter comes." _And you'll have to be strong or die,_ were his unspoken words. After all, winter was the cruelest to the weak, the young, and the hungry.

"Good riddance," snapped the doctor once the two young lords were consumed by trees. "I have no patience for that man. It's disgraceful how a person born with everything can have the audacity to be so unmotivated."

"Be kinder, Reiji," encouraged Yui. "He did not ask to be born a lord. I'm certain if he could, he would have given up his position long ago."

"Then he is every bit as spineless as I first imagined."

Yui sighed, knowing her argument would be futile, and accepted his hand onto the horse. "I'll see you in a little while, Sora," said she, waving. "Try not to get yourself lost."

Without waiting for the child's response, Reiji squeezed the horse's belly and they took off through the forest. Yui's fingers were sore from her deathly grip on the saddle. She held her breath and supported her stomach in an attempt to push aside the nausea; perhaps it was a blessing that Earl refused to be tacked up. She wondered if the doctor had mistakenly borrowed one of Subaru's horses, for the animal repeatedly flung its head up and down, or lashed its legs out in irritation.

No, for he simply rode rigidly and sought control incorrectly. Yui covered his hands with her own and lengthened the reins. "Relax and be gentle, then it will become obedient." The horse stretched its neck gratefully and put on a burst of speed. Reiji gave her a sidewards glance and pursed his lips, bitter that the young lord's advice had been correct.

 **.:.**

They found the reverend stood outside of the rectory, waving goodbye to his students. Reiji and Yui stood tall amongst them. They were a poor bunch with their skinny fingers clutching tattered books and bags crafted from old potato sacks. Reiji grimaced as they brushed past him, eyeing each child as though they were an insect. He hadn't attended a public school. His family hadn't been poor, nor had he been particularly wealthy, but his parents had valued the importance of a good education and sent him to a boarding school up north.

Seiji caught their eye and smiled, beckoning them over and ushering them into the church. He shook the doctor's hand and kissed his daughter's brow, forgetting, for the briefest of moments, that they were visiting for a sombre reason. He depleted and forced his lips into a firm line.

"Come, the papers are already laid out," said Seiji, halting in the aisle in astonishment over his daughter's grimy frock. "Goodness, Yui. Are you sure you had a safe trip?"

Yui blushed and fumbled to smooth the creases lining her skirt. "Q-Quite safe, thank you."

"And Sora?"

"Walking. He'll join us in a little while."

The reverend led them into the vestry. It was a small, windowless room with a single desk, chair, and a stumped, lighted candle. It cast the document in an orange glow, the parchment thick-edged and high-quality. At the bottom were two lines, awaiting signatures. Seiji regarded them uneasily, turning over the beaded rosary hanging from his neck.

"G-Good sir, I hope you have considered every consequence of this decision. Once signed, it cannot be undone—"

"Yes," cut in Reiji, his stare hovering over Yui's abdomen. "I believe we are both acutely aware of what cannot be _undone,_ don't you?"

Yui came to her father's side and placed a hand on his shoulder. He startled, unable to see clearly in the dim light. "Don't worry, father. I know you meant well. God will not punish you for my own sins."

He nodded gravely and set his hand atop hers. Guilt had eaten away at him. He blamed himself for organising the marriage, his parenting, and the morals he taught her. If he had been stricter with her, or perhaps if he had married again to give her a mother figure, would the situation be different? No, it was fruitless to dwell on the past. He shook the thoughts from his head and drew the quill from the ink, passing it into the doctor's hand.

"Reiji," said Yui, softly, as the tip blotted the parchment. He stilled, but did not turn to face her. "I know it means nothing now... but I'm truly sorry that it came to this. Perhaps... perhaps if I had met you first, I could have loved you."

"Is that so?" he mused, signing in a one looped, precise swoop. "Well, I'll admit that perhaps the length of my trip was rather excessive, too."

"Yes," said Yui, smiling in relief. She felt lighter, as though one of the chains shackled to her ankles had been released. She took the quill and signed it herself, but it appeared childish and clumsy in comparison to his. It was blatantly obvious that she hadn't established a set signature.

"Do not look so relieved," said Reiji as his fingers curled around her arm. Seiji busied himself in sealing the document with a dollop of hot, scarlet wax. "My business with you and your child is far from resolved. I _will_ find that treacherous man, no matter what the cost."

"W-What," Yui gulped and twisted her clammy palms. "What will you do when _—if—_ you find him?"

He did not answer vocally; his eyes flashed behind his spectacles. She knew it to be her imagination, but there, like a reflection in the glass, she saw blood and fire, poison and death. To unsettle her further, his lips shaped into a self-satisfied smirk, as if to say— _you_ _know perfectly well what I intend to do, Yui Komori._ Yui crumpled into the chair and clutched her heart, watching, with bleary eyes, as Reiji fled the room with the black ripples of his cloak.

She knew the doctor intended to harm her lover, but she hadn't known to what extent. But she reassured herself that he was safe—she had kept her silence and so had he, begrudgingly. Reiji couldn't have figured out his identity. Yet when he did, she had a plan. A cowardly plan, albeit, but they would have no choice but to flee to a place where vengeance could not catch them.

"Are you unwell, child?" She felt her father's cold hand against her forehead. "You're pale. Come, you must be fed before heading back."

Mutely, she allowed him to take her arm and guide her upstairs and into the armchair beside the hearth. Embers still smouldered in the grate. She sat, trembling and ashen, like the wife of a solider lost at war. She stroked her stomach and hummed lullabies while her father—laden with a tray of warm bread, autumn fruits and cheese—sank himself into the opposite seat. He tore and nibbled the crust, pushing the rest towards her. Yui only shook her head.

"My child, let us take this as a blessing," said he, threading fingers underneath his nose; he had misunderstood her mood. "You are freed from your pledge. You are a free, unmarried woman once more. Be wise—marry the father. Not only will it rid you of your humiliation, but you will be acting upon gaining the Lord's forgiveness. In the end, that is the only thing which truly matters."

Yui broke off some of the cheese, the dip in her skirt hoarding the crumbs. "I'm sorry father, but I cannot. It would be childish of me to nurture an impossibility."

Seiji's eyes popped, and for a moment, Yui thought she had given him a heart attack. He rose abruptly and poured wine from the pitcher. He took a heavy swig and she frowned, knowing how he disliked the affects of alcohol. "A-An impossibility!" he stammered, his fingers clutching the cross. "You mean to say that this man... that this man is _married!"_

"Presume what you will," said she, unwilling to let any information slip into the hands of her ex-husband. "I've sworn to protect him, and I will do so in a way only a woman can." She gave a wry smile, recalling the countless occasions when she had been berated for sharing an opinion or expressing a thirst for knowledge. Yet she had always been denied, for she was a woman, and women were supposed to be seen, not heard. "I will finally do as I have always been told," she continued, feeling satisfaction bubble in her chest. "And remain _silent."_

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey guys! So, from now on, I feel like updates will be a monthly occurrence. I'm starting university again soon, and on top of that I have to work, and thus I will have very little time to write *cries* I can't believe summer is over already, haha D':

Thank you for your patience, and of course, your feedback! :)

Until next time...

 **allyelle~**


	7. Towers and Shadows

**.:. 7 .:.**

Subaru Sakamaki sat on the windowsill, shifting every so often due to the uncomfortable stone underneath. The ledge was wide and long and once had a selection of cushions atop it. He had sliced them with his knife, either out of curiosity or rage, he couldn't recall, but they were gone and his father had forbid a replacement. The glass had once been perfect, too. Now it was cracked from a collision with his fist. The entirety of his bedroom was like this; destroyed and imperfect, as though ransacked by raiders.

His mother's tower was opposite. Ever since he was a child he had established this depressive, brooding habit. It was windowless, yet the tower had once been used for defences. Arrow-loops remained; tiny slits in the shape of a cross wrapped around the circumference. Subaru would stare at each in turn, hoping to see the white flash of her gown, an unblinking red eye, or a set of clawing, desperate fingers.

There was a knock at the door, shattering the tranquility; he had almost forgotten the ails of his hangover.

"Young master?" spoke his valet. "May I come in?"

"Get lost," he bit out, "and leave me alone."

"My apologies," he cleared his throat. "But as the guests will be arriving very soon, it is imperative that you get dressed."

Subaru glanced down at himself; his shirt had dark stains and stunk of alcohol and vomit, and he vaguely remembered tossing off Shu's overcoat in the woods. His trousers were torn at the knee and he was barefoot. He hadn't dared to face a mirror; no doubt his hair would match the disgusting state of his clothes.

The servant—a stern, elderly man—would not take no for an answer. The door clicked open and he entered with a set of dress robes hung over his arm. He bid him a small bow in respect; Subaru gaped at his nerve, his fury turning his ears red. He had served his family before he had been born, and he—and many of the old maids—had learned not to fear his temper. For the most part, it wasn't personal, and the only harm inflicted was to an odd vase or wall. However new, young serving girls would flee sloshing their pails as soon as his voice rose. He liked those better; they never bothered him again and he was left alone.

"Oi! Who the hell said you could enter?"

He laid the clothes on the bed and Subaru saw a bright, fitted waistcoat with a line of silver buttons—it made him sick. His valet noticed his sour expression and turned to give him a sheepish smile.

"Young master, you know as well as I that if you do not greet your guests in an appropriate manner, we will both be punished. Please, be compliant."

Subaru sighed, slackened his fists and turned back towards the window. The amber and bronze of the evening sky fused with the autumn forest, and he remembered how his mother—when sane—would liven as the weather began to cool. Christa liked winter the best, when snowflakes fluttered and the world turned white. She told him stories of how she built snowmen as a girl, dressing them up in her bonnets and gloves.

He was rarely allowed to visit when he was small, but one day, he stole the key from the guards. He would sneak up to her quarters in the dead of night with bundles of food smuggled underneath his nightshirt; Karl had deprived her of all finery and treated her as a savage, wild beast. He brought her sweets and pastries and the reddest apples from the tree, hoping it would flush her cheeks in colour. Unbeknown to anyone he had kept the key, tied to a chain around his neck. As an adult, he was granted permission to visit, but he rarely did so. He was nothing but a filthy coward, one who couldn't stand the hurt.

"I hear Lady Christa is doing well," the servant spoke, snapping him out of thought; he had started filling up the wash basin. "They say she hasn't refused a single meal this week."

Subaru tensed, trying to squash the fluttering hope inside of him. _It's fleeting, it's fake,_ he told himself. _Soon enough she'll be sticking fingers down her throat and screaming until her voice withers._ He knew her recovery was impossible; she was insane, unreachable, forever lost in her mind. He lifted the key, warm against his fingertips. But despite knowing better, a part of him clung to the childish hope of it.

"R...Really?"

He nodded. "But I'm afraid she has been asking for you again, young master. Of course..."

His words faded. Subaru's mind was transported eleven years ago to one of the coldest winters their village had ever seen. Shu had grown very tall, despite the famine and the stunted crops, and he never missed an opportunity to tease. Even Yui, who was always tiny and delicate, had surpassed his height. Though, thinking of her now, he was satisfied that she hadn't grown much since. It was unusual that they saw her at all that winter. She tended to be sick when the temperature dropped due to the draughty church and her thin dresses, too poor to afford thick furs and hot, hearty meals.

Shu was taking a break from his studies and Subaru had roped him into building a snowman. His brother was fifteen and uninterested in children's play; he threw together a lump of snow and carved its face with his thumb. It was drooped and had no decor, no stones for buttons and no spared scarf. After mere minutes, he slumped off to rest under the apple tree where the snow was thin and sheltered. Conversely, Subaru was determined to create a masterpiece; he wanted to tell his mother stories, too.

Yui crept up the hill with a guilty smile, shivering underneath her cloak. No doubt it belonged to her father, for it was too long and trailed behind her like a veil. He was accustomed to seeing her in light dresses made for spring and summer, with her bare feet crushing the grass and daises. She didn't appear to belong amidst the whiteness, even more so when stood beside the frozen river. She waved and dragged her feet through the snow. Her nose was red, both from the weather and her sniffles.

 _"Wow, that's impressive!"_ said Yui, straightening his snowman's pebble-nose. It wasn't often that she saw the ground blanketed in virgin snow. The village streets were slushy and the snow was black. _"But... he looks a little sad, don't you think?"_ Subaru shrugged and watched as her stiff hands scuffed and redrew its mouth into a wide grin. _"There, much better. People always look lovelier when they smile."_ She laughed and pinched his cheeks. _"Including you!"_

Subaru snarled and batted her away. _"Ow! Stupid, get off!"_

She continued to laugh and Subaru continued to complain, and soon enough their squabble awoke Shu.

 _"So... it seems our very own frost demon has decided to show up,"_ he drawled, his breath creating steam. _"Has_ _sneezing bored you already?"_

Her attention drifted to him and Subaru huffed, knowing their conversation would be exclusive. Shu was five years older than him and Yui three, and when together they treated him as an immature child. Frustrated, Subaru continued building his snowman, patting down the snow to make it smooth. Yui settled down beside him, casting a glance at the bare branches above.

 _"I can't stay long,"_ she told him, drawing her cloak near. _"Papa will be worried if he realises I'm gone."_

Shu scoffed. _"The_ _village golden girl can be disobedient, huh?"_

Yui shushed him and hid her coughs into her hands. _"H-How are you? You look tired today."_

 _"Your concern is interesting,"_ he said, leaning forward with a lazy smirk. _"Considering I'm not the one with blue hands."_ His features turned passive once more, and he took off his mittens and tossed them into her lap; brown, embellished leather lined in sheep's wool. She gave him a questioning look, which he answered with: _"your chattering teeth are loud. Put them on."_

She obliged and sighed in relief as warmth flooded her fingers. Looking upwards, it was clear how drained he was; he had been studying since first light. The crown of his head was resting against the trunk, his half-lidded eyes staring blankly towards the forest.

 _"Please, Shu,"_ she said. _"It's important that you look after yourself too."_

He rubbed his forehead. _"Is that all you came for? To ramble about your concern? It's worthless... Just leave if that's all you have to say to me."_

 _"I-I'm not leaving,"_ she argued, struggling to keep her voice firm with the cold.

Shu glared. _"How bold you are... I forgot that this was your home, too,"_ his voice dripped with sarcasm. _"Its obvious... how much you belong here."_

He was weary, he was agitated and he was depressed, and when all of those emotions came together, he would lash out and create distance. He had the importance of his rank drilled into him daily and he soon realised that their friendship was abnormal. People like him couldn't have friends. Soon enough he would be forced to marry some rich maiden and he would have no time to associate with poor little church girls.

Yui jerked to her feet, her cloak pooling around her ankles. _"What's that supposed to mean?"_

He closed his eyes in dismissal. _"I'm not repeating myself."_

Shu didn't know how much time had passed. Dark shapes moved past his eyelids and he heard the wind disturbing the trees, breathing and the squeaking of boots in the snow. He assumed she had left, until a heavy weight crashed down onto his outstretched legs. His eyes snapped open to be met with Yui, sprawled across his lap, semi-conscious and feverish. Her hood had fallen and unclasped, revealing a short, flimsy nightdress and slippers.

If she was well and had stumbled as a result of her own clumsiness, he might have teased her for her directness, but she was sick, he had realised, through her coughing and sniffling. He wasn't the sort to nag and insist on her returning to bed; she had come on her own, and any misfortune was her own to bear. Yet she had ventured to the castle out of worry, not sparing a thought to frostbite or death. She really was a selfless fool.

 _"God... what a troublesome person,"_ he grumbled and shifted her into his arms. He looked down at her, knowing it would be easier for her to disassociate from him, but he knew, no matter how much he hurt her, she was not only a selfless fool, but a loyal one. _"Will I ever get a break from you...?"_

Subaru was oblivious to the matter; his brows furrowed in concentration as he lodged a pair of coins into the eye-sockets of his snowman. Shu stumbled to his feet with Yui cradled in his arms; he was heading to the stables to fetch his horse, _plus_ mentally preparing himself for the encounter with the fretting minister.

 _"Young master?"_

After an unanswered pause, the servant repeated themselves, and Subaru wondered why Shu hadn't responded; no doubt he was wanted by his tutor to continue his studies—had he fallen asleep? Confused, he turned to see him—and Yui—vanished. Footprints torn into the snow were their only reminders. Sighing, he looked upwards.

 _"What?"_ he snapped. _"I'm busy."_

 _"My apologies, sir. But your mother is calling for you."_

 _"M-My mother?"_ Subaru bounced on his heels. _"You mean it?"_

He barely saw the man nod before he sprinted towards the castle, tripping up the steps in his clunky boots. He landed in one of the courtyards, becoming victim to the stares of passing maids. They shivered as Yui had, with their red noses and white lips, arms loaded with wood for the fires.

Eventually he reached the base of the tower, the upper-half lost in the fog of snow. Subaru always felt intimidated under its height and anxiety began to twist his stomach. With each visit, he never knew which persona he would be greeted with—would she love or hate him today? Would she be mellow or violent? Her behaviour was as unpredictable as a flipped coin, and before he clambered up the spiral staircase, he forced himself to toughen. He couldn't take her words to heart.

The guards bowed and unlocked the door for him. Christa sat facing the largest arrow-slit, her arm dipped out in an attempt to catch the snowflakes. The windows had been boarded, yet the wind seeped through the gaps, bitter and howling. Her gown was as white as the snow and Subaru wished it had been as thick. He shrugged off his furs and crossed the room. She heard footsteps and flinched, clutching her blanket as a lifeline. The fear in her features dissolved once Subaru smiled.

 _"Y-You called... mother?"_

 _"Oh, Subaru,"_ she crooned, her hand caressing his cheek. His face was hot from running and her fingers were cold and soothing; he relaxed. _"Subaru... you have finally come. I'm overjoyed..."_

 _"Mother, aren't you cold up here?"_ He laid his hand atop hers, watching as her narrow shoulders shuddered. Anger boiled inside of him—why hadn't his father constructed a fireplace? Why hadn't he given her winter furs? Why... did he treat her so cruelly?

 _"Wear these,"_ he offered his own. _"Or you'll catch a cold."_

The fur was mottled and peppered with snow, and slowly, her eyes met his outstretched hands. They wandered to his face, to his unkempt white hair, then back to the slit in the stone and to the flurry of snow. Her fingertips brushed the fur, prickly and icy. He was a liar—how would this keep her warm? That filthy man had never concerned himself with her wellbeing before—was he tricking her?

Christa inhaled sharply, whipped out a hand and struck his cheek. Subaru fell to his knees, wide-eyed. He nursed the mark as tears trickled down his face.

 _"Filthy boy!"_ she spat, kicking the furs aside. _"Get away!"_

She stumbled backwards until she was pressed against the wall, mumbling incoherency in her panic. Her features were full of madness, fear, and disgust, and Subaru bowed his head in shame. The guards rushed in and attempted to calm her, but her shrieks grew louder, mingled with their exclamations of pain as she lashed out. There was a clinking of metal as her limbs were shackled and restrained, then silence after a cup of sedation was pushed past her lips.

Subaru crawled over to his cast-away furs, full of the snow she loved so much. It was a reminder of her innocence and freedom, and he had taunted her. He thought of the snow Yui had once described from her church window, dirty and polluted...

"Young master?" spoke his valet. "Are you alright?"

Subaru jerked his head to the window, roughly wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"Fuck," he growled, "shit, I'm fine! You saw nothing, understand?"

"I understand," he agreed. "Come, it's becoming dark."

He drew the curtains to remove the tower from sight.

 **.:.**

"I can hear you hovering in the doorway, you know..."

Subaru cursed and rammed the door open. He knew he could never confide in Shu. He was a good listener yet he was useless at giving advice; sleep and ignorance were his only wise words. Preferably he wanted the company of Yui, but he would never make it back for the feast.

"So noisy... what do you want? Your clothes are hurting my eyes."

Shu was lay on the bed, holding a crumpled piece of parchment above him. The room was dim and he hadn't bothered to close the curtains, yet the moon was visible, faint against the dusk sky. A single candle was lit and the light turned the paper transparent, and Subaru could see lines and lines of handwriting.

"B-Bastard!" he yelled, slamming a fist into the door. It ricocheted off the wall, loosening its hinges. "Do you think I _want_ to wear this shit?"

His blue eyes peeped above the letter and moved to the hearth. Subaru followed them to see the flames high and blazing. It didn't surprise him as he knew Shu's tiredness rendered him cold, but when he moved closer, he smelled smoke and the burning of cloth. A golden button was trapped in the grate, unblemished and shining.

"My bad," said Shu, withholding a smile.

He stretched and stood and locked the letter into a draw. Subaru bit back a curse at the sight of the shrivelled waistcoat, envious that he hadn't thought of something similar. It was clear that Shu had dressed himself as his shirt was rumpled and his cravat was awry. No matter the occasion he dressed as he always did, in pale colours, simple and refined. His hair was outgrown and would have overflowed his collar if not for the ribbon.

"I... saw that woman today," he explained, slouching beside the window. "Not that you'll remember a thing..."

Subaru loosened his collar. "Hah? Who?"

"Cricket," he mumbled. "Funny... she was hardly in any condition to hop."

He resisted any optimism. For years Subaru longed for the three of them to become close again. As far as he was aware, his brother hadn't spoken more than a handful of words to her since she married Reiji Kasei. He knew Shu had responsibilities, but he couldn't understand why the duo couldn't be amicable and meet up at village festivals as they once had.

"A...And?"

Shu rubbed his nape. "Hn. She's as annoying as ever."

Subaru scoffed and punched his arm; Shu asked if he wanted to meet the same fate as his waistcoat.

The sky shifted to black and the night air became overpowered by aromas from the kitchen. They sat on the windowsill, dangling their legs out. It was a dangerous position and one slip and the fall would be fatal. It reminded Subaru of when he was young and being invited into his brother's bedroom was one of the greatest honours. In the daytime they would cause mischief by dropping objects at the people down below, and at night they would chart the stars and tell stories. Shu had even tried to teach him violin, but he was far too heavy-handed.

He never came in much now. Shu would be either glued to his desk, asleep or ill. He didn't know why he tolerated him tonight; perhaps they were both seeking a distraction.

Shu's eyes were closed and Subaru flinched when he spoke, believing him to be asleep.

"Tell me," he began, "who do you think it is? The man... who ruined her. Everyone in this village is nosy and has an opinion."

"What's with this fucking question all of a sudden?!"

Shu shrugged, absentmindedly rubbing his cat's chin. Lily had slinked in and settled on his lap, hissing at Subaru each time he moved.

"Well... you must suspect someone, right? Like that troublesome doctor... always breathing down my neck."

"That bastard, why is he still here? Where the fuck is he getting his facts? I mean, you hate her."

He made a noise in agreement, though Subaru knew he hadn't listened.

"This man," he said, giving him a passing glance. "I assume... you already hate him."

"Obviously!" Subaru exclaimed, tightening his fists to subdue his anger. "The amount of shit she's been though, how miserable she's been... when I find out who it is, I'm going to fucking kill him!"

Shu's lips twisted into a smile, though Subaru couldn't decipher its meaning in the dark.

"He's a coward," was all he said, his words almost lost in the bustle of pulled-up carriages.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello! Filler chapter, I guess? :')

It was either stick at 3k words or go to 8k, which I imagine to be a little overwhelming to read (and to edit, lol).

Thanks for reading! See you next time ^^

 **allyelle~**


	8. The Maiden and The Master

**.:. 8 .:.**

A carriage bumbled along the woodland terrain. It rocked, like the nauseating sway of a boat, and Mirai inhaled sharply and gripped the headrest to avoid becoming an upside-down bundle of silk. Her mother, Lady Akiyama, pursed her wrinkled lips and whacked her fan against the roof. The footman blundered an apology. She peeled back the curtain, her pale gloves striking against the dark velvet.

"Goodness, you would think Lord Sakamaki would have the sense to gravel the path. Or do they continually ride horseback? How unbecoming."

"You complain about this every time we visit, mother. I hardly doubt we are high enough in the Lord's favour to demand comfort."

Lady Akiyama huffed, knowing she spoke no fault, and batted her middle with the fan. "Sit up straight, child!"

"I'm sorry," muttered Mirai, confused why she gained another hit. _"Ouch!"_

"How do you hope to attract a husband with such a frown?" She leaned across to pin back a stray curl. "No doubt your father would have found you a suitor much sooner if not for this unruly head of yours. Gentlemen do not like maidens who look like wild, little wood-sprites."

Mirai remained silent and allowed her to fuss: she straightened the ruffles adorning her frock, dabbed rouge onto her lips and rose-oil onto her neck, and finally, with green eyes ablaze in agitation, resumed smoothing back her hair. But it was in vain; the curls pinged out of their slick restraint, like a clown in a jack-in-a-box. Mirai did not look a thing like her mother, whose face was pasty and tart, as though sucking a sour fruit. She favoured her father, with their dark eyes and cinnamon skin.

"He is a handsome man," the older woman said, giving her a coy smile; it snatched the years from her. "As is his younger brother. Though it is a shame about that disagreeable temper of his. Well, a rotten apple is bound to appear in such an established family sooner or later. And that boy's poor mother... I haven't seen her in years!"

"Master Shu is slothful and undriven," Mirai added, uninterested in her mother's gossip; she took up her needlework. "Neither are faultless."

With longing, Lady Akiyama rubbed her flat abdomen; she lost another child in the spring. "Oh, my dear," her voice fluttered. "Think of how beautiful your children would be—"

"Mother, please. I have barely met the young master a handful of times. The betrothal is not yet official—even you and I are not supposed to know."

Mirai was neither excited nor fearful to be married. She felt nothing except a little relief to be finally free from her parents' pressure. It was what she had been preparing for her entire life, like the fattening of cattle before slaughter. _A maiden is a mare, groomed for the whims of men,_ her mother had once told her. That was all she was and all she would ever be; first her father's pawn, and soon to be her husband's.

She hardly listened to her mother's rambling about her father in the carriage ahead. She pressed her cheek against the window, unable to detect the shapes of trees in the evening darkness. Everything was a blur of dark-green and umber.

"Mirai, look," pointed her mother, shuffling forward. "At the cottage. That's where that _woman_ lives."

Frowning, she followed her finger to be met with a crooked building, surrounded in a balm of flowers. All of their colours were dimmed grey by the hour. Washing hung from low-branches, the sheets billowing back-and-forth to reveal a girl craning to tug them down. She heard their carriage approach and turned, meeting Mirai's eyes. She smiled instantly, but Mirai was too stunned to return it.

"Who is she?" she asked when they passed by, suddenly curious. The way she had spoken made her think of devils and witches, all of which she was not.

"Haven't you heard the rumours?"

Mirai shook her head; her mother looked exasperated.

"She's an _adulteress,"_ she whispered, rolling out her fan. "Married to the town doctor. A handsome, dark-haired fellow. You'll remember him. He treated you when you were much younger."

"And who is the man?"

Her green eyes lit up, like flashing a child with a shiny object. She really was a silly creature. "That is the scandal! Not a soul knows! But... between you and me," she came near. "I've heard she is terribly close with the youngest lord. A leeching, sinful woman... I bet she has demanded vast amounts of gold from him in order to keep her silence. If the secret leaked, the family's reputation would be in ruin."

"Nonsense. Lord Sakamaki has a number of sons, neither of whom are birthed by his wife. Their reputation cannot be so delicate."

She was hit by the fan. "Hush, child! You know we aren't to speak about such things."

"Sorry," she said, only to be whacked once more. "Mother—!"

"Sit up _straight!"_

 **.:.**

The two carriages came to a halt in the castle courtyard. A pair of footman greeted each and Mirai accepted their hand and stepped down, careful not to tread on her skirts. Her mother would be furious if she noticed a spot of muck, and the girl feared her when wielding a fan.

Lord Sakamaki burst through the great, iron-spiked doors, trailed by his two sons. His long ashy hair was tied low, the strands fluttering about his shoulders. He was finely dressed, as expected, and he clapped a hand against her father's arm and smiled, exchanging all the usual pleasantries. A hunting trip was due in the spring once the weather warmed, Mirai had overheard, and each respecting family was apparently in good health.

She knew no truth was held in this statement, as her mother had become frail after each loss of child, and the damage was both physically and emotionally taxing. However one wouldn't see her anguish now as she blushed when the Lord pressed her hand to his lips. She whipped out her fan to appear coy, and Mirai glanced at her father to see his face stern and his mouth thin. Lord Akiyama was a practical man who could not see the appeal of romance, but he was not pleased about his friend charming his wife.

"And who is this fine flower accompanying you, Minoru?"

Mirai felt his golden eyes on her. Then, being the obedient, well-trained maiden that she was, she ducked her head and bowed.

"My Lord, I am flattered that you think so."

"You play innocent, My Lord," giggled her mother. "But surely you can remember my daughter, Miss Mirai."

"Of course," he drawled, his gaze lingering low. The girl was not unfamiliar to such a look, as she knew her only valuable asset was her figure. She was not naturally pretty, but the bravado of her dresses made her appear so. "You have grown to be quite a handsome thing, haven't you, my dear?" Karl Sakamaki continued, his finger tracing her jaw. "No doubt her beauty stems from the loveliness of your wife, Hiraku."

"Of _my_ wife indeed," said he, forcing a smile to make light of the jibe.

Mirai heard a snort beside her. She turned to see the two young gentlemen talking quietly amongst themselves, a mixture of boredom and annoyance written on their faces.

"No doubt she'll end up in that bastard's bed tonight," the one with silvery hair grumbled, his hands continually pulling at his clothing. "He has no fucking dignity. I mean, c'mon, she's young enough to be his daughter!"

The other stifled a yawn. "Don't complain... Perhaps this nonsense will end sooner if she does."

She stared at them, her mouth agape. The younger noticed her and flushed, stumbling over his words. His brother displayed nothing and refused to acknowledge his insult, moving to scratch one of the restless horses behind the ear. Apparently the condition of their steeds was more important than the _questionable_ reputation of a high-born girl.

Mirai startled when she registered a hand resting on the small of her back. Lifting her chin, she met Lord Sakamaki's glittering eyes. He was close, and when the wind disturbed his hair, it brushed against her cheek. He smelled of roses, but it was not natural and sweet like the ones blooming in her garden. She was uncomfortable, as no-one had dared to flirt with her so shamelessly. Lecherous men tended to admire her from a distance, with their undressing eyes and whistles. She felt the heat rise to her face, and inwardly she scowled, knowing she had the weakness of her mother.

"Ah, with all this chatter, I seem to have forgotten to conduct thorough introductions. My dear, I'm sure you remember my sons. Master Shu, my heir, and my younger, Master Subaru."

"I remember," Mirai answered, curtly. "Though it is clear neither of you are quite as charming as your father."

She curtsied, and even without looking, she could sense her mother's anger. _A lady is not a lady without manners!_ Her words circulated in her head, along with flashbacks of those rigorous etiquette lessons she had taken as a child. Mirai was certain the older woman would take great pleasure in beating her with the fan at the earliest opportunity.

Master Shu was humoured, but his lips were tight, as though pushing back a clever quip. Master Subaru was still red-faced. He gave a nod of acknowledgement, but his eyes did not stray from his boots.

"Come, come!" Karl Sakamaki beckoned. "The autumn night is not kind to young ladies."

They were led into the castle, the stone walls bathed in soft candlelight. It had modern decor for an ancient building. The ceiling was elaborate in design, with gold-leaf and murals commissioned by famous, foreign painters. There was a dual staircase overlaid in scarlet carpet, and as they walked through the corridors, Mirai eyed the portraits of the Sakamaki ancestors, new and old.

In one there was a stoic, golden-haired woman sat on a chair. On her lap, creasing the silk of her dark gown, was a toddler with bright, smiling eyes, painted in clothes too-old. _Lady Beatrix and Lord Shu Sakamaki,_ was the inscription at the bottom of the frame.

"Don't loiter," said a flat voice behind her.

It was only then that the girl realised she had stopped. Her parents and Lord Sakamaki were very far ahead, and she caught a glimpse of her mother's salmon pink train as they rounded the corner. Mirai looked into the same pair of blue eyes she had seen in the painting; they were no longer smiling. Subaru caught up with them, his hair unkempt and falling into his eyes. He had a habit of ruffling it, she had noticed.

"M-My apologies," she lowered her head. "I was merely admiring your art collection."

Shu turned towards the painting and frowned. "I doubt the dead wish to be admired," he mumbled, more to himself. "Subaru," he said, louder, yet still in the same uninterested tone. "Lend the woman your arm... by her nosiness, we'll likely be in this corridor until morning."

"A-Are you asking to be fucking knocked out? Bastard, you do it!"

He wore the ghost of a smile. "No. My arms are tired."

"Tired? Don't give me that shit! You hardly move!"

"Gentleman, please," Mirai cleared her throat, trying not to take offence by their lack of enthusiasm. "I am not taken sick, nor am I a wandering child. I am quite capable of walking to the great hall unaided, thank you."

Yet, just as she stepped forward, the youngest—irritated, embarrassed and extremely reluctant—was holding out an arm. She had heard tales concerning the delinquent Sakamaki, and none were terribly redeeming. Mirai was not her mother and did not listen to foolish gossip, and at that moment, she was grateful that she hadn't. He had saved her face and she took his arm without hesitation.

"Quit smiling! I didn't just do it for you, got it?"

Mirai nodded despite her confusion—if not for her then who?

This thought played on her mind as they walked down the length of the corridor. She didn't hear any footsteps belonging to the eldest, and before they reached the corner, she looked back. Shu was still stood in front of the old oil-painting. By his own _loitering_ it was clear that he didn't cross this hallway often. Perhaps he hadn't seen the painting for many years, or perhaps not at all, considering the abundance. But it was impossible to tell what he was thinking when she could not see his face.

 **.:.**

It was the beginning of the cold-season, with the crackling fire and the rain-smudged windows. Aromas of hot soups, honeyed-meats and roasted chestnuts filled the great hall, and Mirai had eaten her fill. She swilled the contents of her goblet, taking a sip now and again, cautious not to become drunk.

Her father possessed a high tolerance for alcohol and his behaviour rarely altered. But Mirai could see his rosy cheeks and her mother's joy at receiving a smile and a peck. Karl Sakamaki was full of merriment and confident charm, and if not for the countless refills he demanded, she would not have deemed him intoxicated.

The two young lords had eaten very little and both appeared to be reaching the end of their tether. The eldest had been 'resting his eyes' for a suspicious amount of time, and did not respond to any comments thrown his way. The youngest, who had bent every piece of silverware he had come into contact with, was currently stood at the window, his silhouette dwarfed by its height.

Behind Subaru situated a piano, occupied by a man with russet, shoulder-length hair. The young lord had raised both his voice and his fists at the composer more than once, but the man merely waved him off and laughed. A servant would not insult their master so casually, or perhaps he had a stupid amount of bravery.

"You mustn't ask, my child."

Her mother's expression was gentle, and the wrinkles which were set around her eyes and lips seemed to have disappeared. It was not often that she saw the older woman relax. She was harsher than any tutor and even stricter than her father. But Mirai was her sole surviving child and she knew that she was treasured dearly. The two were not always amicable, but Mirai spent almost every waking moment in her company, and they could read each other well. Thus, her mother knew her curiosity to be a dangerous thing.

"He is not a servant," she stated, observing his nonuniform.

"No," confirmed Lady Akiyama, voice low to avoid being overheard. "You know as well as I that men—especially _powerful_ men—have no inclination to be faithful to their women. In this world, Mirai, nothing is a sin if it is committed by a man."

Mirai wondered when her silly, gossiping mother had become so wise. Minoru took a pitcher and topped up her goblet, the blood-red wine staining her lips. She never protested against the restrictions of her sex, and even when she spoke ill of the Lord's character, it was not done in resentment; she was stating a fact. It was a warning for her daughter once she married.

Lady Akiyama turned back to her husband while the girl—albeit guiltily—focused on the laughing pianist. He played a composition she had never heard before. It was something of his own creation, she deduced, the notes quirky, up-beat and sad all at once. He noticed her staring and flurried the keys, flashing a cheeky grin.

She rarely smiled as it was inappropriate for young ladies to appear brash and forward. Yet she found her lips upturning, her cheeks stiff from the unused gesture. Mirai rose from her seat and instantly, her mother's fingers were clasped around her wrist, her brows tight.

 _"Mirai,"_ she hissed, tossing a sideward glance at Master Shu, wishing her daughter would initiate a conversation with him instead.

"I am only curious about his music, mother," she reassured, gently tugging free. "Do not worry yourself."

Ignoring the exasperated sigh of the older woman, she crossed the room, thankful that her father and Lord Sakamaki were engrossed in their obnoxiously loud chatter. The man spared her a fleeting look when he turned the page of his sheet music, but otherwise did not cease playing.

"My mother says we aren't supposed to talk of you."

His lips were still slanted in jest, but when viewed up close, it was not a friendly smile, nor was it cruel. It was... cold. Mirai wondered if he was mocking her.

"Hm~? Is that so? Then shouldn't we be a good girl and take your dear mother's advice?"

Idly, she ran a finger along the brass candlestick, its shape mirrored in the instrument's glossy lid.

"I am not one to go against her wishes. I just came to compliment your music. You are talented, sir...?"

"Are you always so formal, little lady?"

He stopped playing. Swivelling on the stool, he pressed his elbow into the keys and his palm into his cheek. He stared up at her, and now, when directly under the candlelight, she realised his eyes were green, a few shades lighter than her mother's. He had a beauty mark under his chin which creased when he gave one of those odd smiles.

"It would be inappropriate for me to be informal when addressing you. After all, you are a stranger."

"Why, does the lady wish to become closer? Fufu, what a cute expression. I bet my old man wants to steal you away~"

Mirai flushed, but she did not miss the way his gaze hardened when he looked towards the head of the table.

"I am not a prize to be won, sir," she said. "Besides..." _I am betrothed._

"'Sir' huh? No _moral_ woman has ever called me that." He was teasing her again, but she was far too innocent to understand the connotations. "Laito will do. We can't have Lord Powerful seeing one of his bastard's becoming all high-and-mighty now can we? I hear the dungeons in this place aren't very comfortable."

She was awed by his bluntness. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance, sir—um, my apologies. _Laito._ I am Mirai. Mirai Akiyama."

His eyes flickered in recognition. "Oh~? Really? The one and only?"

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, so impatient! Let me explain~" He chuckled and resumed his stance at the piano. "During our teenage years, my brother would not shut up about some maiden with a pair of huge—"

Laito's speech was halted when a fist slammed down against the lid of the piano, the fall almost crushing his fingers.

"Listen you perverted bastard!" Subaru yelled. "Finish that sentence and I'll cut your pay!"

"Little brother is so mean, is he not? And I was only complimenting the lady."

"More like damn harassment," grumbled the youngest, casting Laito a scowl before returning to the window.

"Oh... Sir Laito," Mirai began, eyes wide in recollection. The pianist had given up on correcting her form of address and took it with some amusement. "Would I be wrong to assume you work at the Cupid's Bow tavern?"

"Work, live, imprisoned... who knows?"

"The hat shop I visit often with mother is opposite," she continued, ignorant of his sarcasm. "And I seem to remember a boy who does not look dissimilar to you."

"That would be Ayato in all of his stalking glory. Well, in any case... pleased to meet you, little lady."

"Yes..."

She did not consider herself an awkward person, yet here she was, grasping for a new subject. She was a girl who was exposed to very little of the world and the knowledge she had acquired was subjective to her class. She did not care that this man was poor, but it was likely that they had nothing in common and she did not want to insult him with ignorance or unintended snobbery.

Laito appeared to have noticed her inner turmoil and scooted down the bench, patting the empty space.

"Sit, I don't bite," he purred. "Fufu, unless you wish for it."

"Thank you, but I do not want to hinder your work."

Mirai gave a small curtsey and wandered over to a nearby side-table. It carried desserts of every kind: jellies and fruit pies, ginger biscuits and a pyramid-stack of macaroons. She took the plate of the colourful things and daringly sat on the bench beside him. She could feel the heat of her mother's gaze from across the room, so she made sure there was a respectable distance.

Laito purposely closed the gap and exclaimed in false-surprise. "Decided to hinder me after all?"

"Um, would you care for a macaroon? They're foreign, I believe. So of course, father doesn't trust them."

Her fingertips touched her lower-lip as she laughed; Laito blinked.

"Ne, what was that? Did the uptight lady _laugh?"_

Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and composed herself. "I am not inhuman, Sir Laito. You must understand that the society my mother introduced me into is not rich with... amusement."

Mirai craned her neck to assess the situation at the main table. The older men had sobered and were in a serious discussion about the current political situation; her mother was alone with her forehead creased in worry. Subaru had shifted a chair in front of the fire, the chill beside the window apparently too much to bear. He had a goblet in hand and drank it like water; the servant boy refilling it did not leave his side. Shu had awoken—reluctantly by the way he rubbed his eyes—and he tossed about the cold, uneaten food on his plate.

"Events such as these," she continued, "they're supposed to be a social call, but ironically, they can make one feel rather alone, don't you think?"

She decided that he must agree on some level. Laito was surrounded by aristocracy, and biologically they were his family, yet socially, he could not be more separate. For tonight he scarcely outranked a servant; he was an outcast.

Mirai waved a hand in dismissal, conscious that she had overstepped a boundary. "My apologies. My mother would have my head if she heard my tongue." Then the girl stood, with every intention of returning to her party.

"I'm disappointed," Laito inclined his head to the plate of macaroons on the lid. "Weren't you offering to feed me just now?"

She circled on her heel, stunned. "S-Sir?"

"Aw~ no fun, you're far too easy to tease," he laughed lightly. "But at least you're honest. Your cheeks are a very nice shade of red."

He plucked a biscuit from the stack and popped it into his mouth. He had quickly scanned the room for prying eyes and Mirai realised her naivety. Food was made for the family and their guests, not for servants and musicians. Nevertheless, he chewed it with a slight frown, considering the taste.

"Huh... it's sweet," he finally said.

"Haven't you—" Mirai stopped. _Of course he hasn't tried them before,_ she berated herself. "Yes," she agreed instead, "they are."

Suddenly, the loud clinking of metal against glass rung throughout the room. She felt another presence beside her, and when she twisted her head, she was met with Subaru and his folded arms and his grumpy face. A part of her wondered whether he was once again preserving her dignity from the judging gaze of his father. She had been in the company of Laito for the majority of the evening, which was unbecoming for a young, unmarried lady.

It seemed she was correct, as when Lord Sakamaki's eyes drifted to the trio, they did not narrow. His preoccupation with Lord Akiyama—and litres of ale—made him assume his youngest son had been making his guest feel welcome.

"An announcement," the Lord began, gesturing for his servants to pass around fresh pewters. "And a toast, to mark the unity of our two houses."

Subaru cursed into his hand and slouched heavier against the instrument. He snatched the drink and downed the contents before the toast was initiated. Mirai stared at him, awed at his tolerance. He arched an eyebrow and nodded to her own cup.

"Don't _you_ do that."

"No, I wouldn't dream," she replied. "I do not want to be carried out slung over my father's shoulder."

"Shame, little lady," Laito pouted. "We'd have such a great view from behind~"

Subaru's knuckles were white, but he did not dare shatter the growing silence with a threat.

"To my son and Miss Mirai on their betrothal," Lord Sakamaki continued, raising his goblet. "Hiraku and myself are in agreement of such an agreeable match, and I'm certain, my dear," he set his eyes on her, and Mirai thought the golden sparkle was a threat. "That you will give him plenty of sons. To Shu and Mirai!"

There was a joint striking of cups at the main table; Subaru muttered a very sarcastic "cheers" and clinked his empty one with hers. But the momentary quiet whilst everyone drank was disturbed.

"...What?"

It was the first time she had heard Master Shu speak since the hallway. He only spoke when it was necessary, which meant any small talk was out of the question. Her chatter-box of a mother had soon learned this after receiving an abundance of blank, silent responses to her comments about the weather.

His features were riddled with surprise, which was strange considering the passiveness of the man. He had even knocked over his goblet, the loaf sponging up the red. He was fully awake, at long last.

"My son, aren't you pleased that I have found you such a fine bride?"

Shu's face was unreadable. His eyes flickered to her, then settled on his father.

"I think she'll be fine to be somebody else's."

His voice was not loud, but it appeared so in the noiseless room.

Then, as though his impoliteness couldn't worsen, he stood and wordlessly left the great hall. Mirai and her parents were bewildered, blinking at the closed doors. Karl Sakamaki did not seem angered, and if he was, he did well to conceal it. He sighed, as though he had expected the reaction, and took his seat, apologising and blaming Master Shu's behaviour on drink. But she knew his goblet went untouched.

"Shu has a _special_ way to make a woman feel wanted, ne?"

Mirai was flooded with self-consciousness. Her fingers automatically went to her hair, feeling the familiar bane of coarse, bumpy curls. Her mother had been correct. Gentlemen _do not_ like maidens who look like wild, little wood-sprites.

 **.:.**

Shu Sakamaki sat by the door of his father's study; he often found the older man bunkered down in there. It was a place he used to gather his thoughts and to sketch-out his newest scheme.

If this had befallen upon Subaru, he would be pacing, and the pair of oriental vases guarding the doorway would be in pieces. But he hadn't the energy to fuss. Shu had been in this predicament before, and each time he had wiggled himself out of it. He made a loose promise to his father that he would marry before he was thirty, and four years still remained of his so-called freedom; he couldn't understand the rush. A wife was just another person to nag him, just another responsibility to deal with. Then there was the duty of children...

Unintentionally, Yui Komori's petrified, tear-streaked face floated into his mind; it was the day she told him of her engagement to Reiji Kasei. Seventeen and as innocent as a lamb, not even been kissed, he remembered her wailing. Back then, she hadn't dared to show weakness like that in front of Subaru; she had told him calmly and assured him not to worry.

Shu suggested not to marry the doctor if it caused her misery. But she shook her head, dried her eyes and met his stare, level and beyond her years. She had no choice, she had told him, because she was a poor girl without an alternative. It was funny how a person could have both a fanciful and practical nature. It was hard to believe that she had been a fairytale-dreaming child.

He was a powerful man, but that day, he felt very powerless indeed.

That feeling struck him now; something told him he wouldn't be able to evade the Akiyama's easily. The mad-haired woman wasn't anything special to look at, nor did her conversation give him any inclination to stay awake. But her family outranked any of his previous betrothals, and as their fathers were friendly, it would cause strife if their union was terminated.

He exhaled, leaned his head against the wooden panel and curled a hand around his knee, wishing his father would make haste and wrap-up the dinner party.

After some time, there was a muffled sound of voices, then a thud and the jingling of locks, signalling the guests had finally left. He waited to hear the clicks of his father's boots against the tile.

"You have the tact of a child," was the first thing Lord Sakamaki said. He looked down at his slouching form, his lips pressed into a thin line. "The Akiyama's are a fine breed of a family. You should be grateful that I have found you a home-bred woman—in the same village no less! Would you prefer it if I made a contract with a foreign Lord? Would you be happy with a wife who cannot say 'good morning' in an understandable tongue?"

"I'm not yet thirty," Shu said, quietly, but his gaze did not stray from gold. "I know this may be alarming to a man like you, father... but having a wife does little to interest me."

Karl Sakamaki repeated his words, gave a cold smile, and unlocked his study. He sunk into the leather chair behind his desk; Shu lingered in the doorway, having no intentions to stay long.

"My son, are you implying that _women_ do not interest you? Folly, of course... I have seen you and your brother in the tavern, and I have seen the flushes of young maids when they meet your gaze. You mean to tell me, that a man as old as you, has never given into the temptation of a woman's touch?"

Shu turned away and occupied himself in the wall of books. It was a pretentious collection written in dead languages. He couldn't understand the point of beholding them if no knowledge could be gained; they were gathering dust.

He didn't want to engage in the subject his father had brought up, but he felt the need to end the growing silence.

"As why I go to that noisy place... it's to make sure that brat doesn't get himself arrested."

"And?"

"My business is my own," said Shu, terse. "I do not have three living trophies, so it shouldn't concern you."

Lord Sakamaki, as collected as always, rubbed his jaw and studied his young heir, casting a glance to the pair of oil-paintings hanging on either side of the window. They were of his two fair-haired wives. Lady Christa wore a ghost-like smile as she sat on a garden swing, the whiteness of her being enhanced by the surrounding roses. Lady Beatrix lacked emotion and her blue eyes were firm, but the delicacy of the composition was balanced by the soft brushstrokes of her skirts.

"I cannot see—nor have I ever seen—any of myself in you," Karl began. "You are your mother's son, there is no question. It's disconcerting. I almost feel like Beatrix herself is here reprimanding my past behaviours."

Shu followed his gaze to the window. Each time he saw a portrait of his mother he tensed, possessed by an urge to straighten his posture and clothing. She had died when he was barely four-years-old, and he remembered her in snippets: her clipped words and strictness, the silky fabric of her skirts and her icy-cold hands. He never saw her smile, and even in paintings, the artists hadn't dared to envision the impossible.

He sat down in the armchair opposite the desk, sighing as he did so, knowing his father's wistful sentiments had extended their meeting.

"The triplets may be troublesome, but make no mistake—I am not so heartless as to wish away their existence."

"This reminds me—I have been informed, by the good doctor's evaluation, that the Komori bastard is due in the upcoming winter," Karl explained, venturing over to the table of liquors. He poured himself wine and raised the glass in offering; Shu refused. "Tell me, Shu—do you think me a cruel man? Do you pity the woman and give her your charity like Subaru? Nonsense, of course. That boy is too soft-hearted. It is only right to punish those who oppose the Christian Laws. Many say I am lenient. Countless souls have lost their lives to the gallows for such a crime—a scarlet letter is more than any sinful woman deserves."

"As I have said before... I have no opinion on the matter," Shu said, becoming weary of his rambling. "Subaru can do what he likes, whether that is carrying some of her shame upon his shoulders or pulling out his dagger for every wrong look. You as well, father... punish her as you see fit. I do not care for the woman."

The older man had taken his seat; he reclined and swilled the contents of his glass.

"Is that so?"

"My own duties are tiring enough... do you honestly think I would waste whatever energy I have to spare on the affairs of a lowly minister's daughter?"

"Indeed," he shook his head and chuckled. "I wouldn't dare to suspect you, my son. I thought it safe to put the doctor's worries to rest. He is not discreet about his suspicions, and I cannot have our name soiled with untruths."

"He's a pain," grumbled Shu, resting a fist against his cheek. "Though... I imagine vengeance to be more of an interesting past time than gathering herbs."

"Yes, quite, and much more rewarding."

Shu cleared his throat. "We're digressing. About this... marriage. I refuse. All high-born women are the same—empty-headed and annoying."

Karl Sakamaki's eyes glinted behind the glass' rim. "Did you believe you had a choice?"

"Let her marry Subaru if you're so concerned over scorning your friend."

"I do not need sons from him—after all, one does not invest in silver when they have gold. If you're adamant on refusing her and wish to elope with whichever maiden you fancy, then yes, let your brother marry Miss Mirai and _he_ can be heir. But we have had this conversation many times over, have we not?"

They had. Shu was free to abandon his position but there were consequences: he would be disowned, and all of his inheritance and power would cease to exist. This didn't bother him as he could get by with his music and intellect. It was the fate of Subaru which made the act unthinkable. The youngest would be crowned as the Sakamaki heir, and as he had an undisciplined upbringing, he would be an unfavourable choice. Shu cared for very few people and thus he could not allow his little brother to be subject to the torment and stress he had endured. He could not be so selfish.

"...Fine," he murmured, wincing as he felt a familiar jolt of pain in his head.

"Excellent," his father clapped his hands and drained his glass. "Tomorrow you will go to the Akiyama manor and offer your sincere apologies for your behaviour this evening."

"Hn... whatever," Shu humoured him, knowing he would bribe Subaru with the task instead.

"My, haven't you caused unnecessary dramatics? She is merely your wife, Shu. There to bear you strong sons and nothing more. I am not ordering you to love the woman."

Shu grimaced and returned to look at the portraits of the two unloved, disposable women. A mixture of emotions swelled in his chest when he realised he was following in his father's footsteps.

* * *

 **A/N:** Don't worry about me sneaking an OC into this story—she won't in any way replace Yui as the heroine. There are only so many canon characters in DL, and I've tried to make use of all of them, but sometimes the plot demands more of a... _female presence._

I know Yui hasn't made much of an appearance as of late, but I plan for her to finally give birth in the next chapter which should get the plot moving!

As always, thank you for reading! Any feedback will be greatly appreciated :D

 **allyelle~**


	9. A Devil in Winter

**.:. 9 .:.**

The screaming winds of winter thrashed against the windows of Yui Komori's cottage. The sun had set and she lit a candle and crawled underneath the quilts. During the cold-season, she would push her bed closer to the fireplace so her skin could feed on the warmth. Yui had grown very big over the passing months, and she appeared even bigger when swaddled in every blanket and every piece of clothing she owned. If someone were to visit, they would surely laugh.

Sora, who temporarily lodged with her at the minister's request, was curled up like an old dog in front of the hearth. A thin blanket covered him, but he insisted he felt no chill. He was asleep and his sandy hair was flopping over his eyes. In the firelight she could see a shadow on his upper-lip; a smear from the warm milk she had made him before bed.

Yui knew her child was due anytime, and as she lived in the wilderness of the forest, it would not be easy for her to find help. Sora was a brilliant runner despite his small size and could be at the village and back within the hour. He was a thoughtful thing and always made sure she was well; she wondered whether her father's worrying was infectious, and sometimes, Yui didn't know who was watching over who.

She had taught him some literacy and mathematics in the same patient way she remembered Shu doing with her. She mended his tattered clothes and made a mental note to cut his hair, for he had developed a habit of blowing it out of his eyes.

Yui did not know when his parents had died, or how long he had called the streets home, but she did not ask. If he wanted to share his past, he would. Though that did not stop the stab of pain in her heart when she saw his fitful sleep and his wide, terrified eyes when he awoke, gasping on sobs.

As the months blurred and autumn transformed into winter, she left her home less and less. When depression hovered over her like a black thundercloud, she forced herself out into the garden. She watched Sora skating on the frozen river and listened to his laughs instead of tears when he fell. She brought her botanist books with her and gazed at the flower illustrations, wishing a snowdrop would wiggle out of the cold earth and bloom.

She wrote letters to him, ones she knew would never be sent. They were monotonous after a while, a retelling of her activities each day. But it lifted her spirits if she imagined his responses; it was almost like he was there with her, and she didn't feel so alone.

Subaru visited weekly, and upon seeing her listless smile, remarked dryly that she looked as happy as his brother at the prospect of marriage. He had informed her of Shu's engagement as casually as commenting on the weather; she'd said it was wonderful news and told him to send her regards. It was to be a grand, spring wedding on May Day—a good omen for fertility. Subaru asked if she was going to attend with her babe in tow, for he knew how she loved to see the flower displays after a long, colourless winter. But she'd told him that it was not a wise idea.

Her eyes had begun to sting with tiredness as she focused on the dancing candle. When she finally drifted into slumber, she dreamt of her old friend stood at the altar while a thunderstorm raged down against the stained-glass.

 **.:.**

It was deep into the night when her first pains came. Her stomach twisted in cramps and she winced, gritting her teeth to suppress her cries. She rolled forward to sit on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped tight around her middle with her head between her knees. Gradually, the contraction subsided, like sand sieving through fingers. Yui inhaled, exhaled, and tried not to panic.

Sora, awoken by the creak of the mattress and her ragged breathing, jolted upright and transported himself to her side.

"Miss Yui?" he said, his voice shaking with uncertainty. "Is... Is it time?"

Eyes closed and body tense to brace for the next wave of pain, she dipped her chin to nod.

"Sora," she whispered, fumbling for his hands. "Do you know where to go?"

"Yup—the tavern."

"Do you know who to ask for?"

"Miss Cordelia."

She was not fond of the barmaid due to the bruises she had seen on Ayato's face, but she was one of the few people who did not condemn her infidelity. They had developed a strange rapport; she kept Yui busy at her needle with repairs and commissions, and the gold in her pocket gave her something to live on. Cordelia was not an innocent maiden as she had borne children out of wedlock, so she understood the shame and the trials of love; she would help her.

"Yes," she gave a weak laugh. "Be fast, but remember, it is better to be safe. Please be careful."

"Promise, Miss Yui. Stay put—I'll be back real soon."

He dashed from her and flung open the door, letting in the bitter gusts of snow; her skin prickled and bumped.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, half-rising.

Sora snapped his head back, his blue eyes wide and blinking. His fingers were still viced around the handle and the snow stuck to his hair, the wind rippling the baggy cotton of his nightshirt.

"Are... are you in pain?"

"No," said Yui, standing with some difficulty and pushing the door closed. "But I certainly will be if you face the night without a jacket. Influenza is a stubborn thing to shake, Sora."

A shadow crossed his face and he lowered his gaze. Yui chewed her lower-lip—perhaps it was the disease which sent his parents into an early grave. She glanced to the window and to the flurry of whiteness, suddenly grateful for finding the orphan while the weather was mild. He would not have survived the winter on an unsheltered doorstep.

She sat him down and tugged his arms through the sleeves of a jacket, tossed a scarf around his neck and placed a pair of mittens into his lap. The boy tied the laces of his boots as Yui was unable to bend, and at the sight of his discarded slippers, she smiled, reminded of her former-self and her reckless rush to the castle.

He looked up, his freckled face orange in the firelight. "What is it?"

"Worry makes people foolish, is all," she said, ruffling the snow from his hair.

She transferred the candle into a lantern and sent him on his way. Yui watched his form fighting against the direction of the wind until the mist of snow swallowed him from sight. Yet, the instant she closed the door, she whimpered and doubled over in pain as another contraction tore through her abdomen. The fire had died from lack of attention and her only candle was currently swinging from Sora's hands. The room was in complete darkness; she couldn't even decipher the hazy grey shapes of furniture.

The cramps intensified and Yui remained huddled beside the door with her fingernails riveting her skin. She willed herself not to shed a tear; soon she would be able to hold them and everything would be alright. She thought of their excited gurgles, their soft, plump baby-skin and their tiny hands wrapped around her thumb. She thought of him smiling down at them and making a jest at her dishevelled appearance. She thought of the three of them, a family, together and happy.

These thoughts made the pain bearable.

"Sora," she mumbled, pressing her clammy forehead to her knees. "Please... _hurry."_

 **.:.**

The young ward took off into the forest with only the feeble lantern-light to guide him. Sora liked the woodland during daylight hours; it was a peaceful transition from the hectic village streets he was accustomed to. Yet during the nighttime—when he could barely see his own hands!—it was another world entirely. He was robbed of good sense and given fear in return. He hadn't heard voices, he reassured himself, it was merely the wind rattling the bare branches, and the soft thumps were not footsteps, but a fallen snow drift.

Though none of this eased his quickening heartbeat when he thought of a pack of starved wolves, or the devil himself, very much at home in the dark shadow of trees.

Despite his trembling and his growing exhaustion, he pushed his legs on. Miss Yui was relying on him, and if he didn't hurry to the village, she would be in danger. He could not repay her kindness with cowardice and failure.

Sora continued to sprint, his hands outstretched to avoid a collision with a tree. He thanked his graces that Miss Yui reminded him about his attire. The toes of his boots were sopping and the tip of his nose was very cold. He pulled up his scarf to shield his face, inhaling the faintest scent of lavender.

Suddenly, the ground shook and a tall, fast shape was heading towards him. The boy screamed and dropped the lantern, the wet earth sizzling out the flame. Frozen to the spot, Sora covered his eyes and braced for impact, but a gruff, impatient voice cut through his fear.

"Idiot—move!"

Sora willed his body to shift and jumped to the side, hitting his skull on a trunk. He slumped into the snow, disorientated with fluttering eyelids, hearing the nickers of a horse, the jingling of stirrups and a pair of voices. He groaned and touched his head; it was damp and sticky. There was a crunching of footsteps and a new spark of light. Rubbing his eyes, he lifted his chin to look at the figure towering over him.

"Kid... I would advise you," the man drawled, massaging his forehead. He looked—and sounded—extremely tired. "If you value your life, not to run headfirst into a galloping horse." He narrowed his eyes and bowed over. "How troublesome... is it bleeding?"

"'It'?!" The gruff man appeared at his side. "You fucking run the kid over, now you refer to him as _'it'?"_

"Not my fault it got under my horse's feet," he tossed a glance over his shoulder. "It's only luck that she isn't lame..."

Sora's attention flitted between them; one was invested in an argument, while the other could only grumble something unintelligible and sigh. The tired man, who held a lantern, brought his hand up and dragged it across his face. It illuminated his features: a pulled-down mouth, straight nose, and blue eyes. Sora was reminded of the day by the riverside with Miss Yui as they washed linen between the rocks.

 _'His eyes are like yours,'_ she had said. _'As blue as water.'_

 _'Who is he?'_

 _'Look up high and you'll find him.'_

Indeed, the young ward was small, and even if he were standing, he would still be forced to look up high to meet the man's gaze. Sora felt weary and dizzy once he caught his breath, the adrenaline having drained out of his body. This blue-eyed man had a horse, and Miss Yui knew of him, so perhaps he would help her.

"H-Help..." he forced the words past his lips, struggling to stay awake.

The gruff man snatched the lantern and brought it closer to his face. "Hah? This kid... I know him. He's staying with Cricket."

There was a sharp inhale of breath. "Subaru, do something with the kid... I don't care what. We're leaving."

Sora, dipping in-and-out of consciousness, was vaguely aware of being lifted from the snow, the stenches of horse and ale, and then the erratic movement beneath him. His scarf flung from his neck and lodged itself onto a branch. At dawn, when a carriage or a lone traveler passes through the woods, the first thing they would see amidst the black trees would be a waving flag of scarlet.

 **.:.**

The two Sakamaki sons slowed their pace as they reached the cottage. Subaru rode one-handedly, the other holding the limp body of the minister's ward. Shu's face was grave as he dismounted, taking both of their horses and securing them on a post beside the barn. He lingered behind and grimaced at the sight of his brother yelling and banging his fists on the door; the child was ungracefully slung over his shoulder.

"Dammit! Cricket, open the fucking door!"

Shu came to the window and used his hand to wipe away the condensation. It was pitch-black inside, which made him question whether she was home—had the fool ventured out in a blizzard to seek help for herself?

"Kick it open," he ordered Subaru, the leather of his gloves squeaking tight around the lantern's handle.

The youngest did not need telling twice; he took a backward step and rammed his foot against the door. It was made of old, rotting wood and it caved easily and collapsed onto the ground, uplifting clouds of dust. They were fortunate that Yui hadn't been closer, as the panel landed at her feet.

She was a pitiful thing to behold; curled into a ball and rocking as her cries filled the space. They didn't know if she had heard them arrive, or if she was in such a bad way that she couldn't stand to answer their calls. Nevertheless, Subaru propped the child up against the wall and fell to his knees at her side. Shu remained in the doorway with the snow pelting his back. Then, without warning, he swallowed thickly and fled.

"Shitty coward," Subaru bit out. "Knew he wouldn't be able to stomach it."

There was the sound of coughing and retching, but he blamed it on the deceit of the weather.

"It... It hurts..."

Subaru snapped his head down, his expression hard but eyes soft. Yui sounded child-like when she spoke, as though she had fallen and scraped her knee.

But she wasn't—she was a brave woman, one who could stand atop the castle steps and face ridicule, be shunned from the village which once loved her, and stay resolute to her promise no matter the consequences. She endured it all without shedding a public tear. Now here she was with her hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and weeping into his chest. He had never seen her this vulnerable.

Subaru couldn't bring himself to curse and blame her, but he was not adept at comforting. With a blush dusting his cheekbones, he resigned to tracing circles into her back.

"Uh—hey, look—you're fine, you're not dying, got it?"

"Why do you bother speaking."

Subaru blinked at the doorway; Shu exhaled and rubbed his nape.

"Don't look at me like that... I was checking I'd tied the horses."

With his fingers clawing through his hair, Shu hovered over them with a vacant stare.

"S-Subaru," Yui rasped, raising her head.

Sweat was rolling down her face, her wispy strands plastered to her forehead. Her tears made her pink irises glisten in the lantern-light.

"It's you she calls for... huh?" Shu mused, giving a wry half-smile. "Interesting. Do you have something to tell me?"

"Don't fuck with me!" Subaru yelled, his hands groping the floor for something to toss at him; a slipper was found, but in the dimness, his aim was skewed. "Maybe it's 'cause I'm the one who is always saving her ass! Tch... you're not going to help," his voice mellowed in dismissal. "Just go back to the castle and sleep already. I can handle it."

Shu crouched and looked at his brother squarely. "Whatever you think of me... I don't care. But I would not sleep well with the possibility of the woman bleeding to death."

"You..." _care,_ was his unspoken word.

Subaru didn't know why this fact was unbelievable. Deep within he knew Shu was kind; he merely masked it with an unfeeling exterior. His position did not allow him to maintain outer family relations, and no matter how much he reiterated how little he cared for the woman before him, perhaps a part of him still saw that energetic creature playing on the riverbank, his first and last friend.

"W-Where is he?" Yui panicked; the two men exchanged glances. "Sora," she clarified, "where is—he should be—!"

The eldest pinched her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger and forcibly turned her head. The child had nodded forward, but the rise and fall of his chest was clear. "There—look," he said, losing his patience. "Sleeping. Selfless fool..." he sighed and released his grip. "Start worrying about yourself."

Yui's gaze fell upon him for the first time. Her lips parted then shut, swallowing the words on her tongue.

"Subaru," she said, angling her chin; she was still tangled in his awkward embrace. "Take him to my father... and tell Ayato's mother to expect me. P-Please..."

She spoke with quick breaths and pauses, desperate to convey what was needed before the pain immobilised her again. Shu clenched his teeth and withdrew his closeness. She had ignored his advice and remained consumed with worry. But his words _had_ reached her. They were firm and they rationalised her anxious mind. The only way she could concentrate on her current situation was if she knew with absolute certainty that Sora was safe.

Subaru spluttered and started. "I—I'm not leaving you with him! Jeez, are you insane? He'll fucking—"

"Don't delude yourself into thinking I would abandon the woman in a snow drift," Shu droned. "If she becomes noisier... then I might consider it."

"Hah?!"

To his surprise, Yui laughed.

"I wouldn't take it to heart," she said, grazing her fingers across his arm. "It is Shu's greatest form of amusement to see his victims riled and flushed."

Shu hummed and stayed silent, and for a moment, Subaru was transported to their youth and to the sound of Shu's teasing, his protests and Yui's laughter. Despite the situation, the nostalgia of the three of them being together and civil made him feel content. Subaru was the solitary unchanging thing between them; he hadn't married, nor did he have any major responsibility. He was the bridge to both Yui and Shu, and at times he was torn.

He knew there was a disagreement which caused a rift between them, but there was no hatred in the girl's eyes when they looked upon him; they were soft and kind, as they always were. Subaru didn't know the details of their argument, but he had an inkling that her marriage to the doctor was key. In private, Yui had asked him not to let Shu attend the ceremony. It was an uncharacterestic move, but he did not believe it to be mean-spirited.

Their wedding took place on a terrible rainy afternoon, and as Shu had no desire to dampen his hair and catch a cold, he didn't plan to attend in any case. He'd told him that the weather matched the quality of the match and to send his regards. He hadn't; the sarcasm was biting.

"Fine, whatever, I'll go," Subaru caved. "You... you'll be just fine, Cricket." He placed his hand atop her head and gave a smile which morphed into a grimace. His words were partly to reassure himself; childbirth was a dangerous business and luck was not on her side. Yui's mother had died in childbed and he knew this fact alone tormented her. "You're too fucking stubborn to die," he continued, "especially after all this fuss you've caused."

"Don't worry yourself," she said, pushing her lips into a smile. "And be safe on your way—"

Her sentence was cut with an exclamation of pain and her tightly scrunched face.

"Cricket—"

"Go," Shu snapped and gestured to the door. "Warn the wench first, then concern yourself with the kid. I'll be behind you."

Subaru nodded, cast one last glance over his shoulder, then snatched the child up before vanishing into the night. It eased Yui to hear the sound of his horse's quick, pillowing hooves fading into the distance. She understood the uncertainty of his expression; Subaru knew there was a possibility that she may not pull through to see first light. If it were to be her end, then everything she had fought for would be for nothing.

"You're not cold..." Shu's flat voice carried her attention from the doorway. "You're scared."

Yui gave a half-sob, half-laugh, and attempted to still her trembling hands. "I... I want to watch them grow, I can't—"

 _"Quiet,"_ he hissed, slapping his hand over her mouth. The cool metal of his ring pressed against her lips, the gemstone catching the light in pink glimmers. "If that child has developed any brain at all... then it would not be stupid enough to kill one of the few people to truly love them."

"Shu..."

"Looks like I have no choice but to carry you." He huffed and lifted her into his arms, the layers bulking her frame adding difficulty. "You heavy, bothersome thing," he grumbled, pushing her face into the wool of his overcoat; the scent of sandalwood drifted to her nose.

"Then Subaru should be congratulated on finally getting rid of my bones," she said in an attempt to lighten the air. "It's funny, but... I feel like a damsel from one of your old stories, being rescued by a prince on their white horse."

"Hardly," said Shu after settling her onto his mare's saddle. He gripped the bridle and ran his palm along its silky neck, calming its fright. "It seems to me... that you would rather be distressed than saved." He had spoken quietly, and even in the darkness, Yui knew his brows would be furrowed and his eyes trained on the quilt of black where her scarlet letter bloomed. "I'm no prince. Prince's aren't..." He cleared his throat. "Luckily for you... I'm here on a matter of coincidence. Don't be a fool and cloud your dense skull with fairytales."

"I see you still haven't forgiven me," Yui mumbled into her scarf, crestfallen.

Shu heaved himself up behind her. "What do you think."

"I think... that anger doesn't make one care any less about a person. I remember that winter day underneath the apple tree. You were angry with me then, too, but still... you carried me back to the church and nursed me. My father said you did not leave until nightfall, until my fever had broken."

His eyes widened, believing the memory to be long forgotten. Yui Komori was not like his uptight fiancé, who daren't speak out of turn or risk a slip of her manners. The girl before him, who wore enough garments to clothe a village, was not afraid of speaking her mind or defending what she believed in. Despite the grave seriousness which constantly plagued her expression, she was the same Cricket Girl who possessed enough gall to confront his brother.

 _Even after everything,_ he thought, pushing his horse on, _I still don't get a break from her..._

 **.:.**

Her body was sweating, but her face was cold. Shu was a skilful rider and showed no fear at the speed he set, nor did he wince and wink at the blinding hurdles of snow. Yui remained silent as she did not want to be a distraction, but when another contraction hit her, he removed a hand from the reins and wrapped it around her middle, her fingers bunching the material of his sleeve.

"Hold on," he repeated, his body stiffening, "we're almost there."

Yui, with her senses dimmed, only registered their arrival at the tavern with a sudden hot flush and the sourness of male odour. The noise was reduced to low rustling and whispering, the men feigning interest in their cups despite their wandering eyes. She felt Shu's warm breaths fanning across her neck and his tight grip underneath her legs and back; she did not have the bravery to peep from his overcoat.

"Move, move!" came Cordelia's shrilly demands. Men hovered in her path, gawking at the doorway where the two snow-swept individuals stood.

"What a pair!" exclaimed one, stroking his goatee. "The young master, exerting himself for the village whore?"

"Judgement day at last!" said another. "Her tongue may be silent, but he will be revealed in that child's face!"

"In labour? At such an hour? Couldn't the woman wait until morning?"

Cordelia's patience was growing thin, and soon enough a wisp of her lilac hair became visible.

"Unless you would like to witness the girl giving birth as a side dish to your ale, then get out of my way!"

"You wench!" A man protested, raising his pewter. "What about our—"

"Refill it yourself! Or are you lacking arms?"

The men cursed her, and with stomping footsteps, took their cups to the barrel-taps, quarrelling over who took first place; the atmosphere of the tavern returned.

"Foolish men," she groused when she reached them, tossing hair to reveal her spilling chest. "See how they grimace and squirm? Only happy when bedding a woman, but never with the consequences. Ayato," she snapped her fingers, "make yourself useful and take the girl upstairs. Now."

Ayato, abandoning his tray of overflowing pewters, trotted up to his mother's side. He cast a raised-brow glance at the pair, his mouth twisting uncomfortably at the girl's state. Nevertheless, he shrugged away the discomfort and extended his arms, but Shu did not move from the doorway. Ayato, similar to his mother, grew irritable.

"Oi—hand Breastless over already! Yours Truly doesn't have time for this."

"Where is the doctor," Shu said, ignoring them.

Cordelia prickled. "I am—"

"Your only talent lies in seducing men," he glared. "You are hardly capable of wielding a scalpel."

"It seems that anything a spoilt man desires he receives."

They turned to the voice's origin and were met with Reiji Kasei, tucking a notebook into the inside pocket of his jacket. As a matter of habit, he carried his doctors bag, its leather cracked and its gold clasp shining. The imperfections irked him, yet it had a certain charm, like aged wine and first editions.

"There," the barmaid sneered. "Now run along back to that castle of yours. Your services are no longer required."

Shu squared his jaw as his hands fisted the fabric of Yui's skirts; his stare did not leave green.

Suddenly, the sound of the door whacking the wall broke their silent dispute. Subaru burst into the tavern, his cheeks and nose rosy from the cold. He appeared at his brother's side, panting from having run the distance from the church. He quickly eyed each individual, assessing the mood and piecing together the discourse he had missed.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" he said, elbowing Shu's side; the eldest shot him a withering look.

"They're not qualified," he mumbled, though the statement held no conviction. He was stalling.

Subaru knew Shu detested everything medical; at the sight of blood he would pale and quietly excuse himself. He had been wary of doctors since he was young and still, if he could, avoided them like the plague. It must have been awful having Reiji, whose only entertainment lay in tormenting him, living under the same roof. Now here he was, about to attend to Yui... Subaru understood. He did not believe the doctor to have innocent intentions. After all, why should he care for the product of his ex-wife and her lover?

"Give her to me," Subaru reasoned, but Shu's eyes were unwavering; he cursed. "Quit it and let go! I'll stay outside and watch, alright? There's gaps in these doors, and if I hear screaming, you damn well know I'll intervene."

Shu was not listening; his expression was distant and remained glued to the whimpering woman in his arms. She was scratching at his shirt to cope with the pain, and Subaru, conscious of time, lost his calm.

"You insensitive bastard!" he cried, his fist colliding with the nearest beam; the line of horseshoes clattered to the ground. "At this rate, it's _you_ who is killing her! She needs to be seen to!"

Shu flinched and stared at him, wide-eyed, as though awoken from a dream. Within seconds, his surprise was replaced with nonchalance. He cleared his throat and finally passed Yui to his brother.

"I can't—I don't care," he said, toneless, as though none of his reluctance existed. "Do what you want with her. I'm sure I'll work out by the state of the castle walls whether she lives or dies."

Without another word, his cloak swished around his form as he turned to leave, but Reiji, with a curve to his lips, grabbed his arm.

"Indeed, what a happy coincidence it is that you _happened_ to be nearby."

"It is what it is... a coincidence. You saw me leave this place earlier," Shu said, one hand dragging through his hair while the other clutched his heart. His breathing was rapid and beads of sweat clung to his forehead. "I even remember your unimaginative insults."

Reiji, ever an observant man, noticed his unsettled disposition and inched closer.

"Reassure yourself with the fact that I do not care whether the child lives or dies; my only interest lies in its genetic makeup. This, of course, can still be gained in the stillness of a corpse. It leaves me with the question—why should I break a sweat saving something that is doomed to die?"

"How confident..." he scoffed. "Do you possess some psychic intuition that we are apparently unaware of?"

His eyes strayed to the stairs. "No, merely experience. If I cannot save my own sons, are you foolish enough to believe that I would save his?"

* * *

 **A/N:** *hides* I know I said the child would be born in this, but it seems that I _always_ underestimate the length of my chapters. Besides, I liked the nasty cliffhanger and didn't want to spoil it by writing more, haha... pls forgive me D:

Anyway! Happy birthday to the youngest marshmallow! (And a belated one to Mr. How Troublesome because of my forgetful ass lmao).

See you next time :)

 **allyelle~**


	10. Her Living Letter

**A/N:** Hello, and merry Christmas if you celebrate it!

My apologies for the delay D: I had countless assignments due, plus I had to take on another job, so I had very little time to work on this.

What I will say beforehand is that there are some sensitive topics in this chapter. I'm not a medical professional, nor can I vouch that I have experienced any of these issues personally. So, I will apologise in advance if I have not portrayed them accurately. No offence was intended.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

 **allyelle~**

* * *

 _To the woman he said,_

 _'I will make your pains in childbearing very severe;_

 _with painful labour you will give birth to children._

 _Your desire shall be contrary to your husband,_

 _but_ _he shall rule over you.'_

 **—Genesis 3:16**

* * *

 **.:. 10 .:.**

Subaru Sakamaki paused at the top of the staircase and craned down at the scene below.

Reiji's expression was smug once he released Shu's arm, whereas the other stood frozen, his front-profile concealed. When he vacated the tavern, he did not swerve left, back to the forest and to the castle; no, he went right, deeper into the village and towards the docks. If Subaru did not have Yui's body in his arms, he would have chased after him.

The doctor, who had a perk in his step, passed him on the stairway and entered a room at the end of the hall, heeding to Cordelia's gesture. Subaru followed and placed Yui onto the wooden-framed bed. It was clean enough for an inn, though he did not want to think about how many drunken merchants—or perhaps himself, too intoxicated to recall the evening—had lain there with a prostitute.

Kanato dipped into the room with a basin of warm water and cloth. The boy idolised his mother and only averted his eyes to turn-up his nose at the woman occupying the bed, and for a moment, Subaru was certain he would spit and curse her for polluting it with her sin-stained filth. Yet with a caress and a promise of song, his outburst was abandoned until he met Ayato at the door.

The red-head was never one to exclude himself from the drama, and after an insult was thrown at his teddy, their bickering begun. Usually Laito would take Ayato's side, and with a threat of arson, Kanato would storm away. This evening, however, the peacemaker was absent.

Laito had been hired to entertain a dinner party hosted at the Akiyama manor, the very one Shu had attended before he met up with him at the tavern. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they were riding back to the castle, listening to Shu's complaints about his fiancé and her family: Lady Mirai's eyesore of a gown and her mother's insufferable chattering. It was only Lord Akiyama with whom he could tolerate. He appreciated the silence in a room and did not ask empty questions.

Absently, Subaru wondered where his brother had gone and what Reiji had uttered to make him pale and flee. Though with the flurry of commotion, he had no time to dwell.

Cordelia wrung out the cloth and placed it upon Yui's forehead while the doctor unloaded his bag, scarily composed despite the stress of the situation. The barmaid shooed away her two sons, and then, realising he still lingered, turned to him with her hands placed onto hips.

"Are you the father?"

Subaru blushed at her directness.

"W-What the fuck is it to you?"

"I don't have time for half-answers," she snapped, sparking a piece of flint to light the candles and hearth; Reiji drew the curtains to limit draft. The small room was womblike, dark and warm. "If you are, then you can stay and hold her hand for God's sake. If not, then get out. This is a woman's duty." Cordelia glared at the doctor. _"Traditionally."_

"Would you rather that I, one of the few qualified physicians, sit downstairs twiddling my thumbs?" he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. "Of course, I do not doubt your ability. I'm certain your knowledge of human anatomy is proficient. Your business with those whoring women is successful, no?"

Cordelia threw him a withering look and angled her chin, making tidy work of removing the abundance of Yui's layers. Subaru whipped his head to the side, so fast his neck cracked.

"I might as well be," he murmured in response to her question; his jaw and hands were clenched. "Do you see the bastard who fucked her and fled? No! 'Cause I'm the only goddamn father that kid is going to know!"

"I did not ask for likeness," she rebuffed, guiding Yui into an upright position. A goblet of hot caudle was pushed past her lips, and he could smell the sweet spices from where he stood. "Now leave. If you are wanted, you will be fetched."

Cordelia's nostrils flared when he did not move, resembling a bull taunted with red. Yet when he met Yui's large, pleading eyes, he wavered.

"P-Please, Subaru," she said. "It'll be okay— _I'll_ be okay."

Realistically, he knew it would be a bad decision to remain in the room no matter his heroic intentions. He would be unable to stomach the sight of blood, her bared skin and the sound of her screams. He would be inclined to pry the doctor away—the sole person who would be able to help her—and cause unnecessary fuss.

Subaru resigned and tapped his knuckles against her forehead. "You better keep a strong head, Cricket. Or I'll kill you myself."

She flashed him a weak smile. "Always."

He closed the door and spotted Ayato slouching against the wall a few feet ahead. Subaru cursed when he withdrew his money pouch and a half-emptied bottle of liquor. Even now, in a dire situation, his shameless habits do not cease.

"Took you long enough," Ayato grumbled. "C'mon, bets are on—girl or boy?"

He hissed between his teeth, "Get lost," before shoving into his shoulder on his way past. "Like I'm gonna entertain that shit tonight."

"Scared? It's only natural. You're in the presence of the great Yours Truly, after all."

He barged into him with equal force, and against his better judgement, Subaru stopped him before he descended the stairs.

"...What are you betting on?"

Ayato quirked an eyebrow. "Interested?" Subaru turned his face away and he continued, jiggling the bag of gold. "A girl. It's got to be."

"Why?"

He looked towards the room occupied by the trio, and for an instant, a troubled shadow crossed his face.

"Well, we never get what we want, do we?"

 **.:.**

It was either very late or very early, depending on one's perspective. To the stumbling men exiting the taverns who hadn't yet greeted their beds, it was the former, and to the yawning labourers carefully closing their doors not wake their slumbering household, it was the latter. Shu Sakamaki supposed he joined the former, too. His eyes were tired and his head ached.

The sky was white and the morning frost blossomed across the rail, glittering when it caught the sun. He stood and watched as a flock of gulls hovered above. They swooped down to a child bursting with giggles and tossing out showers of breadcrumbs. They stole the scraps and took flight, and the child ran after them, but their little legs could not keep up. Realising the futileness, they puckered their lips and joined hands with their parents before boarding the ship.

The dock was full of families, the poor and the wealthy, pursuing a dream this insignificant village could not provide.

"To be that free," he mumbled, his insides twisting with envy.

It was unknown to him why his legs had carried him here, but he did not question it, for the cold, salty air settled him. Hours had passed since he left the tavern, and he wondered about the fate of Yui. Had the child been born? Did it live? Did _she_ live?

He exhaled and his breath misted. Shu was surprised no-one had recognised him. His fine clothes and the bright gold of his hair were usually unmistakable.

"Goodness, sir. Are you alright? You're going to catch your death in this chill!"

Shu whipped around at the voice. It was Seiji Komori with his weary smile and his kind eyes, holding a steaming pewter. He did not possess the energy to form a greeting, so he turned back to the vessel. He heard footsteps crunching the snow, and the minister appeared beside him. Silently, he extended the cup, and the strong scent of coffee wafted to his nose.

"Here," Seiji said. "It looks like you've been out here far longer than I have."

He blinked in surprise. Yui had her father's eyes, with their selfless depth and their rosy hue. It was common for the minister to compare his daughter to her mother, but Shu thought it strange when their own similarity was clear. There were few as foolishly kind as the Komori's, and few to have suffered the same misfortune.

Shu gave a nod of appreciation and took the cup into his hands, relishing in its warmth.

"They won't let me see her," he explained, and Shu shifted his gaze to him. "She's still in labour. It could be hours until they're born. I'm just..." he shook his head to dismiss any budding concern. "God will forgive. He is merciful. She will see spring, and the flowers, and your wedding too, sir. I believe it."

Nausea crept into his stomach at the mere mentioning of his wedding. It was not the doing of nerves, but dread.

"Her lover," Shu spoke into his drink, "the child's father... what do you think?"

"What do I think?" he repeated, taken aback by the sudden question. "It depends on whom you're asking: myself, as the village clergy, or as her father. As a servant of God, I believe he should be found and he should be punished. As her father... well, I should like to meet him. He must be an impressive man to make my daughter stray from her faith."

Shu snorted. "Impressivley foolish."

"What be you? I did not consider you the sort to take an interest in these affairs."

"I am not interested," he said. "Interest requires mystery... she is merely a deluded woman, and he is merely a selfish man."

"Deluded," he rolled the word around on his tongue. "Yes, I suppose. Love may delude, but it is a precious thing. I feel sad that she, too, should have lost it so young."

Seiji slipped a hand into his breast pocket and withdrew a piece of creased, yellowed paper. He straightened it on the rail to reveal a watercolour painting of a young woman wearing a lovely smile. Her features were delicate and her long hair was plaited and embedded with flowers.

"Hana, my wife," the minister said, and Shu had to wonder why he was sharing such an intimate memento with him. Perhaps he was lonely, with not a soul to share his burdens.

"She painted this herself," he continued, "her family owned a florist. When I first asked her to marry me, do you know what she told me? 'Wait a little while longer, Seiji, for I do not love you yet.' I will always believe, that when she died, she passed her spirit onto Yui. They are one of the same. I only wish she had refused the marriage I arranged, like Hanako had. Then perhaps... perhaps she could have kept her freedom."

His gaze met the ship, which had been freed from its cleats, sailing out to sea. The families left behind waved their handkerchiefs and hid their tears into the shoulder of another.

"Instead, this love she pleads has tricked her with freedom and shackled her with sin."

Then, as though snapped out of a dream, Seiji laughed and gently rested a hand on his forearm.

"Sorry, my dear boy, my tongue seems to have run away with me. I came here," he craned his neck to the church door to see his young ward awake, barefoot and peeping. "To thank you—and your brother too, of course. From what he remembers, Sora told me how you helped her when he could not. Thank you. There are very few who would."

Shu grimaced and said, "I wouldn't waste your thanks on somebody who doesn't deserve them."

 **.:.**

The midday sun slipped through the cracks in the curtains, casting lines of yellow light into the inn's chamber. The scent of dust, old-wood and smoke rotted the air, the beads of sweat clinging to her bared skin drying in the winter chill.

Yui Komori had felt this pain before. It had been dimmer and heart-wrenching, with bloodstained sheets. In her madness, she was half-convinced history was repeating itself, and the sounds spilling from her lips were not of pain, but reels of pleads and prayers.

She'd lost three of her husband's children within the first two years of their marriage. The first two miscarriages were early and unpreventable, yet the last was almost full-term. There were many things she had blamed: the famine, exertion, stress, and most of all, _herself._ When he was born, Reiji detached all feelings and conducted his analysis. The baby was small, weak and unformed, his veined, paper-like skin radiating no heat and no heartbeat.

She liked to think of God's intervention as kind. Perhaps he had the wrong temperament to be able to survive in this cruel world. Still, he was her _son,_ he was her black-haired beauty, snatched from life too soon.

The months which followed were grey, and she became withdrawn and husked. Reiji was a stoic man, but she knew he felt _something_ after that loss. He grew irritable and forgetful, his mind elsewhere. The small amount of affection they had collated over the years crumbled; to be in each other's company was stifling and painful. They were living as two broken strangers.

She remembered the brittle autumn wind when they buried him. It disturbed the dying leaves of the old oak, some falling into the tiny pit where a crop of dandelions now bloomed. He crouched down beside her, offered his handkerchief, and dusted the soil from his cuffs.

 _"Yui,"_ he had said, _"I will take my leave on the next ship. I intend to study at the city's university for a while."_

 _"Y-You're leaving... me alone?"_ she asked, wide-eyed, clutching her child's swaddling cloth to her bosom.

He furrowed his brow. _"Do not be so conceited. I am making this journey for you, to cure you of your infertility."_

 _"Reiji, please,"_ she sobbed. _"I am not one of your vials to study and perfect. I... I just have bad luck. I pushed myself too hard. Don't leave_ — _at least, not now. I beg you. I cannot bear to be alone at a time like this."_

He adjusted his glasses and tightened his lips. _"And equally, I cannot bear to stay."_

Yui, who had been hysterical with grief, was suddenly flushed numb. _"Fine, go,"_ her voice cracked, _"do as you wish."_

Reiji stood and cleared his throat, staring down at the mound of earth where his wife had lain their unused, patchwork blanket and a wreath of autumn blossoms. He rubbed his arm, indecisive whether or not to offer a gesture of comfort, but her hunched form was closed-off and nettled, and he hadn't wished to be stung.

He left in the spring, and that year, Yui could not bring herself to smile when the flowers rainbowed the fields.

She did not see him again for four years.

It was possible that Reiji was being kind in his own way; he held onto the belief that if he cured her condition, then everything would return to normal. He did not take something as foolish as her emotions into account. Conversely, Yui's only solace would be for a hand to hold whilst she weathered the storm. But it was natural for two different people to hold two different definitions for kindness.

Her days were lonely after Reiji fled. She could have spilled her heart to her father, or perhaps to Subaru, but they would worry, and she did not want to drag any innocents into her despair. Only Reiji would understand, and he did not wish to stay by her side.

It was the third year after his departure when she met him, on one blistering summer morning. Waves of heat rose from the forest underbrush and slinked higher through the trees. It had rained the previous night and the floor was bogged, and Yui made the unwise choice to use her cart.

The wheels sunk into a well of mud, and Earl, her draught horse, huffed and cocked his head, as though to assert his earlier resilience as, _I told you so, you stupid human. Now what are you going to do?_

 _"I don't know!"_ she shrieked in response, flunking down onto the rear. _"I don't... I don't know."_

Yui hid her face into her hands and wailed. The sound of her cries echoed through the clearing, startling the roosting birds.

Then he came, astride his horse, with soft eyes and a defeated sigh.

 _"I thought I heard your hysterics from the village,"_ he had said, half-smiling. _"It... it's been a while."_

It was such a welcome presence that her tears threatened to return. She used her forearm to dry her eyes and stared up at his extended hand. It was an offer of forgiveness, of aid and of hope.

He flexed his fingers at her pause. _"I don't have all day, you know."_

Yui gave a hoarse laugh. _"I-I can stand by myself,"_ she insisted, shuffling and hopping down from the board. Mud splashed her dress. _"It is you who needs a hand to dismount from your horse. Y_ _ou cannot help me from all the way up there, can you?"_

He snorted and turned his face away. _"Who said anything about helping you?"_

She stuck out her own hand and said, _"I believe it was implied. Or did you just want to hold my hand?"_

His smile turned impish as he swung himself from the saddle. Yui recoiled her arm and dragged her feet through the sticky earth to stand beside him, running her palm along the horse's velvety neck. His hand snuck up to hers and hesitantly, they touched and entwined.

Yui stuttered his name as colour bloomed her cheeks; she was a fool to taunt a flirtatious man.

 _"Obviously,"_ he teased, clamping her hand between both of his. _"A woman's hands are always warm..."_

"Girl!" A harsh, distant voice cried. "Can you hear me? By the Gods, stay awake!"

Someone shook her and slapped her cheeks; there was a pressure on her hand. It did not radiate the same safe, tingling sensation of him from her memories. This hand was dainty yet firm, with their long, pointed nails cutting into her palm. Yui blinked away the tears and attempted to still the spinning room. There was a stroke of lilac to her left, and hovering above her suspended legs was a dark form, flitting between the spots of sunlight.

She whimpered and fisted the sheets. "I... I'm tired."

The pain was indescribable, and white stars ringed the edges of her vision. Her abdomen was knotted, and the ropes continued stretching and tightening. Eventually, they would fray and snap.

"Just a little while longer," Cordelia said, and something warm and damp settled itself onto her forehead. "Don't give into it—don't close your eyes."

"You have a nerve to complain, Yui Komori," Reiji groused. "Either conquer this choice of yours, or die by it."

To die... like her mother had. Like so many good, Christian women had. In the eyes of God, neither of them _should_ survive this. She'd ruined hers and a handful of other lives for love—for happiness. Some could even say she was selfish for bringing a child doomed for ostracism into an already blackened world. But Yui was determined to be strong; she had _promised_ to be strong.

She would not allow this ruin to be in vain.

Yui fumbled for the woman's hand once more, delving into the delusion that it belonged to him.

 _"Live,"_ she imagined him saying, _"live to see the spring. This winter is not forever."_

"Push!" Cordelia half-gasped, half-shouted, "now!"

 **.:.**

The child gave their first cry as the sky drowsed to the deep amber and rust of evening. Yui heaved a mighty sigh as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. The babe was snatched from the fluid-soaked sheets, cut free and rubbed dry. They howled and she twitched, anxious for them to be safe within her arms.

"Reiji," she breathed, "give them to me."

The doctor's back faced her as he held them in one arm, the silver scissors glinting in the dim light. Perhaps the labour process had turned her mad, but she had an awful premonition about his hesitation; the blade of the scissors were not closed. He wanted her lover dead, and surely his child was no exception.

She inhaled sharply, scrunched her eyes and yelled, _"Reiji!"_

He swivelled on his heel. "Don't give me such a dreadful face. It is not within my best interest to be imprisoned."

"W-What—?"

"Unfortunately," he began with a sour frown, "she is like you."

The bundle was finally given to her and she choked back a sob. She did not dare smile, for the child wore their very own letter—a scarlet birthmark splotched across their face. It was a natural oddity, of course, but many would believe it to be a mark of the devil and a mark of her deeply cast sin.

"What else could be expected coming from a mother like me?" she murmured, mapping out the shape with her fingertip: over her left cheek, nose and right eye. "It looks like you have not escaped the letter's wrath either, little one. I'm so sorry. But... at least it is not sewn into your heart. You are loved, and you will be loved by those who deserve you."

Their eyes, as pink and as doll-like as her own, winked up at her as though her face was a beam of blinding sunlight. She had a nest of caked, white-blond hair, and Yui brushed away the lock curling between her eyebrows; she broke into a wide, gummy yawn.

She laughed. "Oh, are you sleepy? Me too."

"Rest, then," Reiji said in his stern, professional tone as he packed away his equipment. "I will not be held accountable for anything that might befall upon you once I have left this room."

He dipped his head in farewell, and Yui called out to him before he vanished beyond the doorway.

"Thank you for helping me. You... you didn't have to do any of this."

"I did not do this for you," he amended. "I aided you out of my own curiosity and entertainment."

Yui lowered her eyes. "Whether it was for your own selfish reasons or not, you still helped me. Know that I am grateful to you, Reiji."

He considered her for a moment more before sidestepping Cordelia out of the room. The barmaid—who carried a teetering pile of fresh bed linen—gave the doctor a dubious look and kicked the door shut with her heel. Yui, presuming she wanted to strip the dirty sheets, adjusted the infant's position and attempted to rise, but a hand pushed her back down.

"Going somewhere?" Cordelia challenged, raising a slender eyebrow; the tower of sheets were discarded on the chair. Yui swallowed and remained silent, the woman intimidating her somewhat. "You're staying in this room until I say otherwise. He has paid for a weeks keep, and I shan't have you stumbling downstairs and disturbing my business."

Yui tilted her head. "He?"

"Yes, _he_. A nuisance."

Cordelia gave an exasperated sigh and marched towards the door. Sore, Yui winced as she rocked forward to see out into the hallway. Subaru Sakamaki sat leaning against the wall with one leg tucked into his chest and the other outstretched, posing as a potential hazard to passersby. He was asleep, with his head lolled and his hair flopping down to his chin. Her heart fluttered at his dedication.

"They are wrong who say you aren't kind, Subaru."

The older woman rolled her eyes and thrusted a lukewarm pewter of the sweet, medicinal drink towards her to silence any more unwanted opinions. Yui sipped with a smile as she stared down at her sleeping daughter, feeling a sense of calm and relief. However, she knew that only one obstacle had been conquered, and a minefield awaited them outside of this chamber.

It was the calm before the storm.

 **.:.**

She awoke to the sound of humming.

It was a familiar, soothing sound, a sound which grew to be her lullaby during the many months they had spent together. She would always ask him to stay the night—mainly because she did not want him to become entangled with the dangers of the pitch-black forest—but he had a skill to wind innocent words into something of an... _inappropriate_ nature.

They were forced into closeness on her narrow, creaking bed, but Yui knew he would pull her close even if they had all the space in the world. She was a warm and soft blanket, he would insist, and she would lie with her head against his chest. She liked listening to the rhythmic thumps of his heart and the pattern of his breathing. It was an affirmation that she was not alone.

 _"I bet he never held you like this,"_ he said to her once, smothered into her hair.

 _"No,"_ she replied, and she swore his arms tightened.

More than lovers, they were friends, and they possessed enough trust to be each other's confidant.

He was suited to listening rather than giving advice. Perhaps he could not trust himself with words when he could not find the will to better his own life. He refused to be a hypocrite. Nevertheless, he listened to the pain of her heart, would improvise lyrics to make her smile, and hum the tune to lull her into slumber.

Groggily, Yui rose and swiped the collected sleep from the corners of her eye-lids. It was mid-morning, judging by the cold sunlight blanching his hair and skin.

Hearing the rustling of sheets, he lifted his head and said, "How nice of you to join us."

He was stood at the window, behind the wooden bassinet, holding their daughter in his arms. She appeared even smaller in his.

Yui, struck by panic, whipped her head towards the door. "H-How are you here? What if someone saw—"

"Don't concern yourself with trivial things," he interupted. "I'm here. I had to see you... and her."

His gaze flickered downwards as his thumb traced over her scarlet birthmark. His eyes were sad—guilty. It made her sick knowing something else was going to torture his conscience.

She hiccuped on a sob and childishly extended her arms out to him; he indulged her by sitting on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. She broke down. By his appearance, it suddenly made everything very real and very terrifying.

She had been strong and independent for too long.

"I... I thought I wouldn't make it," she blubbered, "I thought I wouldn't be able to hold her for more than a moment."

He breathed a laugh and patted her head. "For such a headstrong woman, you have a pathetic nerve."

Yui raised her head and looked at him squarely. "I missed you," she said, with added composure, "more than you could possibly imagine."

"I know." He kissed her nose, then her lips. "I know."

She winced and whispered his name. "Are you still an—"

Their foreheads touched. "Not... not right now."

"I did it to protect you," Yui reminded him. "Everything I have, and will ever do, is to protect you and her. I don't care what happens to me, as long as those I care about are safe."

He transferred the babe into her arms, separated himself and pressed his palms against his forehead. "I don't deserve that. I'm a hypocrite. I condemn my old man for his behaviour, but recently... it's like I'm looking into a mirror. I can't stand it."

"Listen to me," Yui reasoned, cupping his face towards her. "Love is not a sin, no matter what anybody says. It is the most good and the most selfless choice there is. You are not your father. He is incapable of knowing what love is."

"Selfless," he scoffed. "Allowing myself to love you is the most selfish choice I have ever made, Yui."

"Your selfishness gave me her, and I will never wish her away, nor will I hate you for it. It was me who tempted you to begin with." She paused and inhaled through her nose. "I don't want to argue with you now. Just, please... hold me a little longer."

His eyes flashed in remembrance, and the faintest colour of pink dusted his cheekbones.

"Such a needy thing," he grumbled.

She curled into him and his fingertips danced across her neck. The infant blinked herself awake and flailed her arms. Yui smiled, and he let her tiny hand latch onto his finger.

"She's going to have it so hard," she murmured. "She's an innocent. She doesn't deserve the cruelty of this world."

"She'll manage. Winter children are the strongest," he said, casting a glance at the white flurry beyond the windowpane. He returned to the child, her features so like her mother's. "She's... like you. Beautiful."

He was usually careful with words, but those were accidental—honest. He was rarely so sweet on her.

His eyebrows creased at her gape. "What? Are you dissatisfied?"

Yui shook her head and chewed her lower-lip to repress a grin. "Part of me hoped she would be like you. This secret, this guilt... it would be out of my hands. It would be over."

"Seems that God of yours is adamant on making me suffer a bit longer. And you call him loving."

"He... He is," she insisted, but her statement held no conviction.

Her fingers toyed and slipped from the cold silver of her rosary. This life, created from the fire of passion, had already fallen from God's grace.

"Eve," she muttered, as though struck by a revelation. "Our Evie. A small, beautiful name for the damned."


	11. Smoke and Mirrors

**.:. 11 .:.**

Energetic creatures were destined to become restless when confined, and Yui Komori was no exception. It depressed her to be locked within the same four walls for an entire week, and she couldn't help but think of herself as a prisoner, biding her time idly and aching for the caress of sunlight. By the third day, she considered herself well-rested and recovered, her stomach healed of its tenderness.

Yet Subaru Sakamaki, in his obstinate ways, refused to allow her to return home. She attempted several methods of evasion _—_ like padding down the hallway at first light _—_ but he always managed to find her and wheel her back towards her chamber. Irritation bubbled in her chest, but she squashed it, for she knew it was his method of kindness.

He wanted her to remain in the safe, secluded environment of the inn for as long as possible. Mobs of curious, judging eyes would be waiting once they stepped out of the threshold, and he was stalling.

He was protecting her, as he always had, and always would.

But Yui knew the ridicule was inevitable, and she would rather face it soon than be tormented with the uncertinity of thought. The village officials were callous men, and she knew they would thrust them onto a stage to be jeered and provoked like a pair of wild beasts. She had grown numb to the insults, but the thought of the target switching to Eve made her insides curdle.

She was an innocent thing who did not ask for the circumstance of her birth. She had no autonomy to be damned, yet she was, and Yui thought it terribly unfair. Wrongdoings were things done by experience, not birthright.

A week had passed, and Yui shielded her eyes in wake of the morning sunshine. For once she welcomed the fresh, nipping chill. However Eve, with her face concealed into her mother's neck, began to wail at the strange drop in temperature, despite being bundled in thick, woolly sheepskin. Yui had kept the fires fed and the windows closed in their chamber, and she couldn't help but regret not weening her daughter into the winter climate. After all, she knew her cottage did not possess the luxury of insulated walls.

It was not a common occurrence for a pair to be leaving the tavern whilst the hour was light, and Eve's incessant cries did little to make them inconspicuous.

She dipped her hood and slunk into Subaru's shadow. Passersby arched their necks to catch a glimpse of the temptress and her infant, each whisper like a wasp's sting.

Soon enough, a crowd manifested itself, and Yui was forced to press her back against the door. Subaru grit his teeth and braced himself before her.

"What?" he snarled, "have you simpletons never laid eyes on a baby before?"

Like the strike of the devil, the weak-willed retreated to the bustle of the market-street. Only burly, thick-skinned men remained, or those few whose curiosity killed their fear.

"Step aside, young master," pressed a man, his creamy hair peeking out beneath his wig. His grey eyes were sunken, his nose hooked. "Don't tarnish your name with the association of such a woman!"

"Such a _woman?"_ Subaru cut his eyes, and Yui could see the jutting veins in his wrist. "I'll associate with whoever the fuck I want. I don't need you money-grabbing assholes to tell me otherwise. Now, know your place and _move."_ His hand shifted to his hip to rest on the handle of his sword, the blade scraping as it was lifted from the scabbard. "Or do I have to cut my way through?"

The man's lips curled. "My, and what must Lord Sakamaki think of his son's loyalties? You must be as mad as that mother of yours to be sweet on a whore _—_ "

Yui could barely follow the youngest's quick movements. His sword whistled through the air _—_ a clean, crisp sound, as gasps and scuffling erupted. The man stumbled backwards to avoid the approaching blade; sweat drenched his brow. He skidded on a shard of ice and thudded to the ground, and Subaru, with a fierce, boiling glare, towered over him and squeezed his foot into his chest. The man wheezed as the the air caught in his lungs, the prick of the blade riveting his throat and running a river of blood.

"You're the mad bastard around here, running off with that shitty mouth of yours," Subaru spat. "I'll fucking _kill_ you!"

Bile rose in her throat. Yui felt both a mixture of fear and sadness when Subaru's temper exposed itself. She knew him to be a gentle man, but rage lived inside of him, and eventually it would grow to be his ruin.

She had no doubt he would kill the man who spoke ill of herself and his mother, and although he would relish in the momentary bloodshed, the guilt would eat away at him, reminding him of what he believed himself to be; a monster. Yui would not allow it.

Soothing Eve's distress with hushed words murmured into her soft, blond head, she clutched her tighter as she stepped to Subaru's side.

"Subaru, please _stop!"_

The building pressure of his sword ceased, and the blubbering man's head crashed down in relief. Subaru's stance did not relax, however; he kept his arm steeled and turned his head to meet her gaze. His eyes were cold.

"You—shut up."

"No," said Yui, unyielding. "I will not."

"Do you not understand what I said to you?"

"I understood," she nodded, "but I cannot keep my silence and watch you become something you're not, Subaru."

He tore his eyes away and muttered, "What do you know?"

Yui stepped closer. The victim followed her every footstep and clung onto her every word; she was the bargaining chip to his life.

"I know that it would hurt you far more to kill than the man suffering with a cut throat. So, please... don't do this. Value yourself more!"

Subaru swallowed as he processed her statement. Finally, he lowered the sword and cursed under his breath, the blade trembling with his reluctancy. Yui exhaled and gently rested a hand over his. She could feel his tight, calloused knuckles, and she waited until they slackened before withdrawing.

"Come on," she offered a smile, "let's go."

They had scarcely turned their backs to the crowd before the whispers begun. They belonged to the housewives, cloaked in the shade of an awning. The women were either too engrossed in their gossip to be aware of the volume of their statements, or too dim to acknowldege the severity of the youngest's frustration.

"It makes one wonder," a portly woman started, her eyes sparkling at their tender exchange. "If the young lord has fathered the child himself?"

"Indeed! Why else should he defend the temptress, yet alone cut a man down for it?"

"Master Subaru joined Miss Yui in her seclusion for the past week, did he not? The only plausible reason behind his loyalty could be..."

"It's him! The bastard's his!"

Yui stood taller. "Is this world so blackened that you must twist another's kindness into an act of suspicion? Subaru Sakamaki is very dear to me, and I will not have his concern put against him. He's _innocent!"_

Before she realised it, she had braced herself before him. Many thought it humorous that such a tiny woman could hope to protect him with mere words, and others remained awed by her dignified resolve.

She braved a glance behind her to see Subaru's mouth agape and a flush colouring his cheeks.

Similarly, Yui had come to his defence many years ago when they were both small children. The frost had driven away any budding harvest and the castle's orchids were barren. Shu, who deemed Latin to be synonymous with misery, was dejected that he hadn't been able to leave the grounds to accompany them to the market. Although Subaru denied it, she noticed his gaze straying to a fruit seller's ware.

Shu was not fond of sweets, but he loved apples; preferably the bitter variety, with a hard, bright-green shell. Subaru was quietly kind, and thus, he wanted to bring his brother back a souvenir to lift his mood.

But the little lord, ignorant to the workings of the law, plucked an apple from the crate and dropped it into her basket. He hadn't intended to pay, of course, but he hadn't known the _reason_ to pay. He had everything given to him, spared of the rewards of back-breaking labour and patience, and anything he desired he took without consequence.

 _"Thief!"_ the merchant had shrieked, _"you wretched brat! C'mere!"_

Subaru's eyes widened, and he shrunk as the man raised his hand to strike.

Yui, acting out of instinct, shielded him with her body.

 _"Stop! It was me! He's innocent!"_

His hand came down, and the force tossed her aside, as though she was the weight of a rag-doll. She was not spared for her sex, for she was a scrawny girl of ten, wearing a ragged old cowl. She appeared to be nothing more than a street urchin, not the minister's daughter who should have had enough sense to wear clothes befitting for the cold.

She'd received a black eye and a bloodied nose and the task of calming Subaru's tears. He had always been a crabby, spoilt, snivelling child, but Yui found him endearing. He was like the little brother she never had.

They had taken refuge in a dark, narrow alley, the sky above them fleetingly visible between the colourful ripples of laundry. She dabbed the blood with her sleeve and clasped her hands onto his shoulders. He was quivering.

 _"Why are you crying, Suba?"_ she had asked, cocking her head. _"You're not hurt, thank goodness. You're safe_ — _we're safe here. It's alright."_

He snatched out of her grip and balled his hands into fists. _"I-Idiot! Y-You're so stupid, Cricket! What were you thinking? I... what sort'a man am I if I can't protect you?"_

Yui's expression softened. He was a boy, not a man, but she hadn't the heart to correct him. _"Protect me, huh? Well, next time, I'll let you protect me instead, okay? You can start when we get back, against Shu's nasty old jokes. We'll protect each other,"_ she extended her pinky and beamed _. "Promise?"_

He roughly scrubbed his eyes and linked his pinky with hers. _"...Promise."_

The voices in the market-place buzzed in her ears, and she looked around, helpless. Her conviction had fallen unheard.

"The lord's illegitimate child? Could it be true?"

"Impossible!"

"They _are_ awfully close. You know what they say, the apple never falls far from the tree..."

Suddenly, Yui exclaimed with the tug on her waist. Subaru had pulled her flush against him with his hand smothered across her nose and mouth; she could hear her hammering heartbeat.

"And?" he challenged, as though none of her prior defence existed. "What if I have?"

He did not wait around to hear their responses; he viced his fingers around her forearm and dragged her down the street, casting a cautious glance over his shoulder before ducking into a side-street. The air was dirtier here, thick with the stenches of rotting food, waste and disease. It was a poverty-stricken area, and Yui could hear the colic cries of infants within the houses. She itched to tend to them, but she could not run the risk of infection.

Somehow, Eve had drifted into sleep amidst the chaos, and Yui smiled at the sight of her fluttering eye-lids and her puckered lips. Subaru's robes rustled and his weapon clinked as he adjusted his slouch against the wall; he was rubbing his palms to defeat the cold.

"Subaru..." Yui began, "you didn't have to do that. I am thankful for it, but... it is not my intention to drag you down with me."

He scowled, glanced down and flexed his fingers. "I made a—"

He stopped himself and took a step towards her. The space was cramped, and with his height and the seriousness flashing in his eyes, Yui started to sweat with intimidation.

"If that bastard doesn't have the balls to come out, then it's about time someone did," he continued, his expression hard. "I believe your fucking silence will last forever, but that face of hers won't. Give it up—tell me his name."

He was pacifying not only his father's, but the villager's unrest with a name; he was diverting the attention to himself so she and Eve could live in relative peace. All at the cost for the truth, which she could not divulge. Yui was disgusted with herself.

"I _can't._ I'm sorry."

He growled and his fist collided with the wall, the crumbling stone dusting her shoulders. Yui jumped and Eve awoke and howled, but his rage had turned him blind, and he paid them no mind.

"After all these years, you don't trust me, is that it? You think I'd go blabbing to my old man?"

"Subaru, no! I trust you, so, so much, it's just...!"

"What? Don't give me another bullshit excuse."

She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. "I... I can't _burden_ you with this."

Yui never confided in Subaru as much as she should have. Although he was her closest friend, he was younger than she, and a part of her always believed that her problems were things he should not have had to concern himself with; he had enough familial drama to contend with. She'd pulled wool over his eyes, for she did not want to sully the perception he had of her. Yui was not as strong as he thought, nor was she as fearless. Subaru always saw her best, and Shu her worst.

Shu and herself were not in agreement over many things, but protecting Subaru was one of the few.

They both refused to lay any burdens upon his shoulders.

His confusion ebbed his aggression. "...Burden me? What the fuck does—"

"It would hurt you to know," she interrupted, softly. "Please trust me. I am not withholding this out of spite, or stubbornness, or whatever you may think. Your ignorance is protecting you." His jaw tightened and he looked away, biting his tongue. "After all, that's what you and I do," she resumed, half-serious, wiggling her pinky finger. "We protect each other."

His eyes widened and he turned to look down the stretch of the passageway; he was hiding his embarrassment.

"I know this may seem unfair to you now," she said, "and you may even grow to hate me for it, but I promise, that if you ever figure it out, I will tell you the truth—I will tell you everything."

He toed the ground. "...I wouldn't."

"Eh?"

Subaru's head snapped upwards. "You have a damn thick skull. Do I have to spell it out?" Yui gave him a sheepish smile as confirmation; he swore. "I wouldn't... hate you, alright?"

Her lips parted with surprise, and he knocked his knuckles against her forehead. "What are you gawking for? You wanna catch flies?"

Yui shook her head and extended her finger. "Promise?"

He mocked her immaturity, but nevertheless, he connected them. "...Whatever. Promise."

"And I promise to tell you the truth," she said before adding, "but no wild guesses, okay?"

His brows wrinkled with a frown. "Who the hell do you think I am?"

 _A dear friend,_ she thought, _one I will never deserve_.

"Sorry," she laughed.

"You will? Don't kid me with pretty words."

"I will, Subaru. I _swear_ it _._ "

She made her resolve and squeezed his finger tighter.

Yui had lost one love in her life, and the thought of losing another made her heart ache. Would he grow to hate her when the truth was brought to light? Would he hate him? _Eve?_

However, she knew Subaru Sakamaki did not make promises lightly, and she trusted his word. If the roles were reversed, she knew she could never despise him either, even if he were to pin a knife to her throat.

Perhaps that's what unconditional love is; forgiving somebody when they do not deserve to be forgiven.

 **.:.**

The ground beneath their feet glittered, as though loaded with gemstones, the sun's rays unable to crack the hardened shell of earth. Puddles were glazed over like mirrors, and more than once Yui had lost her footing, only to be caught by Subaru's steady arm and harpooned with jabs about her clumsiness.

The market-place was busy, the chill doing little to discourage the swarms of hagglers—it was a Saturday, after all.

"Oi, what are you planning on doing?"

Yui tipped back her hood. "I... want to visit my father," she answered. "He hasn't met Evie yet. I could be asking too much of him, but... I want her to be christened. I want to do this as traditionally as I can."

Subaru scoffed. "Religion is... weird. What sort'a blessing does a kid get from being dunked in water? A headache, that's what..."

Yui pursed her lips and offered no rebuttal. "Will you wait? Or do you have somewhere to be?"

She gave him a pointed look; he had not ventured to the castle in over a week. Surely his absence was noticed.

"I'll be around—I have an errand to run here anyway," he waved off. "It's not like I'm in any rush to get back to that shithole."

Frowning, she pressed, "An errand?"

He prickled. "W-What? Mind your own damn business...!"

Curious, Yui followed his line of sight. Her eyes met the shop she had frequently visited with Reiji—the pharmacy. She had been well-acquainted with the elderly couple who ran the place, and it grew habitual for them to present her with far more herbs than her pockets would allow for her loyal custom. Reiji would entrust her with a list of ingredients whilst he browsed the aisles; he knew that a pretty face would be a fine haggling tactic.

Yet the question which harrowed her was Subaru's business with such a place. Unless...

"Subaru," she whispered, hugging her daughter close to her bosom. "Is... is he quite well?"

He scratched his scalp, withdrew and unfolded a letter from his pocket.

"Influenza, the doctor's saying," he explained, "it's like the damn idiot _wants_ to die... came home at a stupid hour, frozen to the bone and spluttering nonsense. Mad with fever. He didn't want a doctor and said that he was fine, but our old man insisted... didn't want to be left with all the work, probably." He paused and glanced down at her. "Oi. What's with that face?"

"Both of you... I wish you would value yourselves more. Goodness," she fumed, puffing her cheeks, "look after yourselves! Do you know how much I worry?"

He blinked. "Shit, what's with you? He'll manage."

"Echinacea," Yui continued, furiously racking her brain, "they should supply the seeds. Buy honey and ginger too, for tea. It will soothe the throat and any nausea."

"Honey? He hates—"

"Sweets, I remember," she said, her features furrowed. "He'll manage."

She made Subaru repeat the mental list she had given him before they settled on a time to meet at the church.

"Hey," she said, latching onto his sleeve; he spun around, vexed. "Would you do me a favour?"

"No."

She hung her head and asked once more, her voice listless. "Subaru... please."

He exhaled. "Whatever—what?"

"Would you please... sit and talk to him? I-I mean you don't have to speak, um, just... be there for him. An idle mind can be a person's worst enemy."

 **.:.**

Eve's cries could not be coaxed into silence. Yui approached the church, praying shelter and warmth would dull her child's temper. She flung open the door and slid inside, sighing with relief as she collapsed against the wooden-panel. The scents of damp stone, beeswax and lingering incense wrapped around her like a comforting balm. The watching, judging eyes were no more—she was safe. She was _home._

Eve disagreed.

Sunlight spilled down from the circular painted-glass, blinding her eyes and yellowing her curls. Her birthmark, as scarlet as her mother's very own letter, seemed to glow, to pulsate, like a beast clawing at its cage. It was a vulnerable spotlight and Yui sidestepped it immediately. Her wails quieted, but her tiny face remained scrunched into a frown.

"Father?" she called out. "Papa! Are you home?"

She heard footsteps originating from the living quarters, then a moment later, the face of Seiji Komori appearing beyond the railing.

"...Yui? Is that you, my child?"

He took two steps at a time, his handsome, red-gold stitched vestment billowing out like a pair of phoenix wings; she had caught him in the middle of rehearsing for Sunday's sermon. He did not seem to mind the interruption, as his eyes gleamed once he saw his living, breathing daughter in the flesh. He had been sent news of her good health, but words hastily scribbled onto parchment did little to bury his doubts.

"I... I thought to come by," Yui started, cradling her daughter's head to her shoulder. "I'm sorry it couldn't have been sooner."

"Do not worry yourself—you're here now," he dismissed, giving her a crinkly-eyed smile. "Are they strong and healthy?"

Yui's gaze faltered. "Yes, but..."

She was not ashamed of Eve's unusual birthmark, but she fretted over her father's reaction. Surely a man of the cloth would not see a natural oddity, but something ugly and sinful. It sickened her to think of the possibility that he would reject his own granddaughter.

She created distance; Seiji frowned.

"My child, what is it? Are you unwell? Were there complications?"

Yui shook her head and adjusted Eve's crown to rest in the crook of her elbow, exposing her skin to the light. Her father paled and stared, his mouth gasping for words which would not come. Finally, he fumbled for his cross and thrusted it in their direction, as though they were a pair of demons in need of exorcising. His hands trembled; Yui's cheeks burned.

"This... this is the devil's own mark...!"

She startled, shrunk, and gripped Eve's woollen wrap tighter.

"Don't say such a thing! Eve, she's... just a baby. An innocent. Father, see reason, _please—"_

"...Eve? That is her name?" He blinked in bewilderment, the beads swinging from his fist. "Yui, you are not rendering your case! To name the babe after the temptress...! My, you are a foolish girl. You have only added fuel to the flames. Your options were clear—show repentance, and your sins will be forgiven!"

"I do not seek forgiveness," she answered, "not anymore."

The infant was not the devil. She was conceived in the purest form there is—love. A babe born in the union of a loveless marriage had more fault and less purpose. Society wanted her to apologise for the precious life of her daughter, to hide her away like a dark secret. They wanted her to view her as a regret, as another punishment for her sins. But Yui refused, for all she saw was one of life's most joyous gifts.

Suddenly, her rosary, once her comfort, felt like a shackle. She became hyperaware of its coldness, its weight, and was possessed by the urge to cast it from her neck. It merely served as a reminder to the faith which scorned and abandoned her.

Hope was the solitary thing which stopped her. No matter how grey her days became, she was an optimist who would always believe better days were coming.

"Eve... she is worth every trial, and every hardship I have ever endured. This letter... I see now, that it is little more than a decoration."

"N-No..." Seiji pulled at his hair in frustration; there was a battle of morals raging in his mind. "You are bewitched by your own heart! She is the product of a heart's sinful desire!"

Noticing the torment flashing in his eyes, she came closer. "Do you not love her, papa? She is mine, wholly mine. How can you not love her as you do me?"

With reluctancy, he flicked his eyes down to meet Eve's curious, winking pink. Her chubby arms escaped the wrap of her blanket, and she laid one hand upon the quilt of her mother's letter, and the other upon the minister's wooden cross. She smiled for him, and his features softened, his eyes no longer wild with indecision.

"He..." Seiji swallowed, "he has left very little of his trace in her."

"He is there," said Yui, tracing a finger over her tiny nose and the curve of her lips. "But perhaps that is only the work of a mother's wishful eye."

"Yui... you have made many wrong decisions, and as a minister, I cannot overlook them. But, you have never been a bad judge of character. Tell me this—this man you cherish so, should I feel any ill-intent? If I were to meet this fellow in the street and shake his hand, would I find him... agreeable?"

She sighed and threw a quick glance towards the altar. "Very much so—he is a good man, papa. A good man... in an impossible situation."

 **.:.**

Lord Karl Sakamaki sat in his study, his silvery hair spooling down his back in the blue evening light. He had long ago dismissed the lank-haired servant girl with her clumsy hands fussing about the fires; instead, he warmed his belly with hot wine and his stiffened fingers with the frantic scribbling of his quill.

Business, taxes, villager's requests. It was tiresome, even more so with his heir confined to his chamber slipping the hours away with sleep, fevered nonsense and soup.

He would be lucky to finish this workload by first light. How he longed to feel the thick heat of the tavern and the taste of his woman's lips.

But tonight... it would not be so.

With the twitch of a weary eye, he pushed on, deliberating swapping his wine for coffee. He swooped down his signature and plopped a dollop of scarlet wax onto the document before casting it aside, only to grab another; the height difference of the two piles made him impatient.

Suddenly, there was a soft rap on the door; clipped, he demanded them inside. He recognised them to be his younger son's valet, his hair peppered grey and balding.

"My Lord, excuse the intrusion," said he, bowing. "There is... a troubling matter at hand."

"A matter?" replied the lord, his eyes never straying from the document beneath his nose. "Well, better you make haste and speak of it."

Unabashed, the valet straightened. "Yes, sir, my apologies. There is talk amongst the village that..."

Karl Sakamaki blotted his quill. "My sons are not shy to gossip. Talk is swift and fickle—tamper with it, and all will be well. Is that all?"

"Sir," he pressed on, "you are aware that Miss Komori gave birth to her bastard in the week past—a daughter, cursed with the face of the devil, is what they say. I have been told that Master Subaru... admitted to his... _relationship_ with the woman. The child is certainly... his, My Lord."

The heavy silence dragged.

When Lord Sakamaki finally spoke, it was not surprise, merely a sort of troubled amusement. He was rarely confounded by the twists and turns of life. If anything, he grew to expect the unexpected, and took precautions to avoid them; he was always one step ahead.

"...Is that so?"

The valet's eyes widened. "M-My Lord? What will you have me do?"

"Bring the woman and her child to me," he answered, trailing the feather along his jaw. "I wish to see this _devil_ for myself."

* * *

 **A/N:** Once again, you have my apologies for the delay. My health hasn't been great, nor has my motivation. So, thank you for your patience and for your lovely comments. They do make my day brighter!

See you next time :)

 **allyelle~**


	12. The Madness of Men

**.:. 12 .:.**

Subaru Sakamaki cringed once he arrived at his brother's sickbed. He did not want to be here, nor _should_ he have been here lest catch influenza himself, but Yui had coaxed him into agreement. Admittedly, he understood all too well the consequences of an idle mind.

He was glad for an excuse if Shu thought to tease his concern; he was not here out of worry, or kindness, but fulfilling a promise.

The room was sweltering, and Subaru shed his fur-lined robes and dabbed the perspiration from his brow. The hearth was ablaze and an extra stove squatted in the corner, its orange glow piercing the dimness. The effort made to heat the chamber sickened him when he thought of his mother withering away in her tower.

In the eyes of his father, a wife was disposable; an heir was not.

Subaru dragged over a stool. Shu lay on his back, sleeping, his golden hair matted with sweat. His eye-lids trembled and his brows were drawn, his cheeks brilliant with fever.

Sickness rarely befell upon himself, and a part of him pitied Kanato and Shu for their poor immunity. Whereas Kanato had been born weak and small, Shu had been struck down with a deadly fever shortly before his mother's death.

Lady Beatrix's untimely demise remained a mystery. She was a sickly woman herself—though she hid it well, for she was proud—and some said it was the critical condition of her only child which finished her heart. Though there were countless other rumours, of course, such as suicide as a result of her husband's infidelity, or the most famous, homicide.

Sometimes Subaru wondered whether his father pursued his own mother out of love, lust, or fear for his lineage. Though he knew Christa—when calm—would insist she was besotted, when possessed by madness, however, he could not help but believe the latter. It was a sad union, built on selfish lies.

"I suppose," Shu croaked, unmoving, and Subaru had to wonder whether he was sleep-talking. "I should offer you... my _congratulations."_

Subaru blinked away his thoughts, unable to comprehend his brother's words. "Hah? You awake?"

With difficulty, Shu propped himself up and grimaced with each cough. They rattled his shoulders, and his nightshirt slipped down to expose the sharp edges of his bones. Subaru questioned his eating habits as it was, and they were confirmed by a quick scan of the room. A bowl of untouched soup lay on the nightstand, the fat forming a layer of skin; another was placed by his feet, half-eaten by his cat.

Shu pressed the heel of his palm to his eye and slit the other. He glared at him for a long while before murmuring, "You troublesome brat... I warned you not to intervene." His voice quivered with anger. "I was protecting your neck—so was that woman. Next time... think with something other than your _fists."_

Subaru was stunned into silence. He spluttered nonsense before settling on a curse. "How the hell—"

"It is easy to feign sleep when one gets enough of it... or, when servants lack the tact to whisper. Still, you're as transparent as ever. If I can see through it, did you believe our old man wouldn't?"

Subaru bristled and kicked back the stool. "What the fuck do you know? Maybe if you'd quit moping your mouth could invent some decent shit. It's mine— _she's_ mine, and that's the end of it."

He booted the nightstand to release some pent-up frustration and stalked towards the window. He yanked back the curtain, paying no mind to Shu's irritated hiss as white sunlight poured into the room.

"I'll protect her with everything I've got," he continued, more to himself. "That bastard has already imprisoned one woman, and he won't do it a second time. I'll set them free, both of them. I... have to. I _can't_ abandon them—I _won't."_

Subaru could not catch a glimpse of his mother's tower from Shu's window; only the dark stretches of skeleton trees and the swirls of smoke puffing out from Yui's chimney. He felt reassured that she and Eve were warm beside the hearth, but having developed a habit of pining towards a lonesome tower, it unsettled him not to be able to see the weathered, circular brickwork and the arrow-slits, or the white flashes of her person.

Later, he resolved, he would bring her some porridge drenched in honey and steaming milk, bread and furs, and attempt to light a fire if the seeping drafts of snow allowed it.

"...No," he heard Shu murmur from the bed. Subaru turned from the window to see his cat, with snow starring her fur, curled against his chest. Shu sated her nudges with a scratch behind the ear, but his eyes stared at nothing.

"Freedom is a dream of fools," he continued, "that woman is chained to that letter as much as I am chained to this name." His gaze focused. "Your efforts are worthless... not everyone can be saved. Better you accept it and quit acting like a spoilt child. Even the richest of men cannot behold everything."

Subaru's cheeks burned with fury. Him, a spoilt child? Worthless efforts?

He burst across the room and snatched up the front of his nightshirt; Lily barred her canines and swung her claws. His wrists were tattered, but he did not loosen his grip.

Shu, always unaffected by his temper, stared back at him with weary eyes and lips pressed thin. His indifference acted as fuel.

"You wanna go? I don't give a shit, sick or not. I'll beat your ass!"

"She isn't yours," Shu said, cold. "She will never be _yours."_

Subaru's rage boiled over. With a growl, he threw a punch, and Shu was knocked back against the bed-frame. He was already disorientated by sickness, and he wobbled forwards and scrunched his eyes, convincing his body not to retch. He could not part with the minuscule amount of food he stomached.

"...Satisfied?" he muttered, dragging his forearm across his lips, revealing a smear of blood. Over his fever-red cheeks was the blooming of a bruise.

The youngest clicked his tongue and turned away, though Shu did not see the regretful glance he paid to his throbbing knuckles.

"What, and she's yours, is she? Give me a break."

Shu did not give an answer; he settled himself under the covers and flipped his head away, snapping his fingers to summon his cat. Lily licked the soup from her whiskers and leapt up onto the mattress, purring into his neck.

Subaru wondered how animals could adore such an insufferable man.

"Leave," he muffled into the pillow. "I'd rather listen to that doctor's belittlement than your screeching."

"Bastard!" Subaru fumed, raising his fists once more. "I asked you a question!"

"A ridiculous question is not worth an answer," Shu countered, eyes closed. "That woman would barely let me steal a kiss when we were young, never mind get between her legs. Believe what you want, do what you want... I don't care. Just... get out. You're noisy."

Subaru uttered a curse and seized his robes, freezing when the pouch of herbs Yui had prescribed tumbled from the pocket.

He was wracked with guilt. Why did he open his mouth? He should have prepared a cup of medicine, changed the cloth on his forehead, stewed the coals, aired the room, and fled. No, he had to lose his temper; he had to make things worse. He had to _punch_ him...

"Like hell I will," Subaru grumbled, ripping open the loaf a serving-girl had left earlier and stuffing the powdered root inside.

Shu cracked open an eye and crinkled his nose at the pungent herbal stink. Subaru took the pan of boiling water from the stove and began to brew the tea Yui had instructed, almost burning his hands at Shu's sudden decision to speak.

He half-wished he would go to sleep and ignore him. It was mortifying.

"You've... been spending too much time with that woman," he said, sweating from the hot steam. "I don't need a babysitter, least of all by a loud-mouthed brat. Send a woman in to entertain me if you're seeking to be of use."

Subaru slammed the tea down onto the nightstand, sloshing water and ringing the bottom. "Shut up and get this down your throat. Otherwise I'm not leaving."

"Blow on it," Shu ordered, the corners of his lips lifting. "It's too hot. You can't expect me to drink something with all that steam coming from it, can you? Or are you trying to scald my mouth, as well as blacken my eye?"

Subaru clenched his fists to his sides. "I'll fucking spit in it. See how you like it then."

With a faint smirk, Shu sighed, sat up, and drank.

"Disgusting," he mumbled into the cup. "You really are a worthless excuse of a nurse."

Despite the infuriating nature of his taunts, he took it as a sign of his recovery.

 _If he has the strength to be an asshole,_ Subaru thought, _he has the strength to eat._

He lobbed a portion of bread at his chest, hoping the hard crust pained him a little. The soft white inside was dappled green with herbs, and Shu blanched at the sight, flicking it away like a speck of dirt on a jacket.

"That furball is getting fat," Subaru said, nodding towards his pet. Lily sniffed the bread and batted it between her paws, rolling crumbs about the sheets. "Eat your own goddamn meals. You look like shit."

Shu gave a thoughtful frown as he pulled the bread apart with his fingers. "That woman... she's worried, right?"

Subaru snorted and took up his stool. "Don't get off thinking you're special. Cricket'd lose her head over a dead fly."

He nibbled at his food and turned his head to the window. There had been no snowfall for days, but the air remained bitter, the sun bright but cold. The village was stuck in a lull of whiteness.

Shu's lips parted to speak, but he closed them, took a bite and slowly chewed. The herbal aroma cleared his nose, though his tastebuds remained numb, and he could taste very little.

"Our old man," Subaru began, his voice loud after their brief silence. "He... wants to see them. Don't know what he's hoping for—that kid's got her face. He's wasting his time."

An idle habit, he withdrew his dagger and polished the blade on the wool of his robes. He turned it over in the orange stove-light, entranced by its glimmer.

His attention caught, Shu coughed and asked, "When?"

"To hell if I've spoken to him," Subaru replied. "Been avoiding him like the plague."

Shu tossed the breadcrumbs to an awaiting Lily and sneezed into his hands. "Wise..." he drawled, swiping at his watering eyes. "So, you thought to visit me... a carrier of disease."

Subaru shot him a terrible look. "My valet warned me... though he thought to warn father first, the two-faced bastard. Tomorrow he's saying—there hasn't been fresh snow in days. The forest should be safe for a rider."

A gesture of finality, Shu emptied his cup and said, "Prepare my horse."

Subaru, as the suspect in the case, was led to believe he would fetch Yui and her child from the woods. He blinked and tipped his body backwards, stunned.

"Hah? Fuck that. Some good you'll be—you're sick as a dog. You looking to find a nice spot for your grave out there?"

Shu pursed his lips. "I'd chose a grave in the forest over this bed... if you won't saddle her, I will."

Renewed with energy, he untangled the sheets from his limbs and rose, stumbling blind. He felt intoxicated; his head was light and spinning, his bedridden legs trembling. He shivered in the warmth.

Subaru's protests fell on deaf ears. Shu flung a robe around his shoulders, shuffled into slippers and exited the room with Lily quick on his heels.

"Oi!" Subaru yelled, careening around the corner and startling the passing maids. "You can barely walk! You're mad if you think you can ride in that condition!"

But Shu Sakamaki had already vanished.

 **.:.**

Sora sighed at his stool beside the cradle, his head hung into his hands. He had long forgotten his supper keeping warm in the oven, until his groaning stomach sent a reminder.

Giving the cradle another swing, he reached for his bowl of porridge and black bread. It was a big portion, and he suspected Miss Yui had sacrificed her meal again. She still had her childbearing fat, she would insist. But he could not believe it upon seeing her with a needle and thread in hand, taking in her baggy dresses.

"Miss Eve," he mumbled with a mouth full of oats, "aren't you tired of crying?"

He wished for the babe to hurry and grow. He wanted a playmate with a tongue which talks, not shrieks.

She was a clingy thing who would wail whenever set down by her mother, and the black creases underneath Miss Yui's eyes confirmed her endless attempts to rock her into slumber. Sometimes, when Yui had reached her limits, she would bundle herself in furs and swaddle Eve to her chest and take a walk through the forest. She would return wearing a weary smile and red-cold cheeks, but with the prize of a quiet infant.

Sora wondered whether she detested the seclusion. But it was winter, and the frost was not kind to the young.

Sora bit into his bread, and Eve, having caught onto the notion of food, silenced and stuffed her fisted hand into her mouth. He gave a gap-toothed grin.

"No... only bigger kids get this," he said, his smile faltering as her cries returned. "Uh...! Wait!" Clumsily, he ducked and hid his supper underneath the stool, wrapping arms around his protesting stomach. "Suppose this is fair..."

Sullen, he glanced to the window and to the silver-violet sky. Sora frowned. It was time for Eve to be fed, but Yui was nowhere to be found. She was in the barn, putting the livestock down for the night, but she was taking longer than usual.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, was the sound of hooves beating against the snow.

 _Earl,_ was Sora's first thought. _Had the horse escaped?_

It was a silly notion if one was aware of the animal's temperament. A lazy beast, he would be reluctant to move even if a thousand carrots dangled before him.

 _Bandits?_

Miss Yui had told tales of the rouges who lurked in the shadow of trees, but had hastily assured him not to worry. Thieving men wanted little to do with a cottage owned by a great lord, and even less with a woman whom many still presumed to be too heavy with child to provide easy pleasure.

Sora's curiosity overwhelmed him and he stepped to the window. There he saw the silhouette of Yui pressed against the door of the barn, her hands drawn to her face. Her braid shone against the new moon. Before her was a tall, pale horse, an elegant thing compared to the likes of Earl. Their rider was incompetent, and he was almost hurled from the saddle. The horse fidgeted, kicking away the snow caught in its feathers and throwing its head.

Yui broke free of her surprise and rushed to help the rider dismount before the horse decided first. He collapsed against her, and she stumbled under the weight. As an afterthought, the man caught the fallen reins and pulled the horse along. They reared and gnawed a hoof into the snow, but after another tug and a string of words Sora did not catch, it followed them into the barn.

A while later, Yui emerged from the outhouse, her head earthward and her cloak snatched close. He gasped and dashed back to the stool, red-faced at the thought of being caught spying.

The door opened, and Sora shivered at the cold gust of air. Miss Yui sighed and rubbed her temples, her eyes riddled with distraction. Taking a glance at her wailing, flailing child in the cradle, he thought she would burst into tears herself.

She licked her cracked lips and forced through a smile, "Sora, is all well in here? Sorry—I am so sorry for leaving you alone with her. Evie can be a handful."

She hushed the child and took them into her arms, turning away and unfastening the strings of her bodice. She pressed the babe's head to her breast, encouraging her to feed.

"You are welcome to go home to the church anytime—I could not bear you being here unless you wish for it. I would never think ill of you if you decided to return."

Sora shook his head, his shaggy hair bouncing about his face; he took a spoonful of his cold porridge and swallowed. "My place is here," he said, "'tis what the father wishes too, I know it. Our heads may hurt, Miss Yui, but I'd take a noisy babe over a silent one."

She gave a ring of laugher, her eyes flashing anew. The lines marking her forehead were no more. "You are a wise soul, Sora. Thank you for saying that..."

Eve, winded and heavy-eyed, occupied her crib once more; Sora lugged over his soot-dusted blankets.

"One of the animals has taken sick," Yui said, her eyes stuck to her hands. "I must stay with them tonight."

Sora, who did not want to spill the sight he saw, humoured her lie. "Is... Is it Earl?"

"No, no. Do not worry yourself—I will return every hour to check up on the two of you."

He frowned and glanced down to the patchwork throw strewn across his lap. "But... are you not going to sleep, Miss Yui?"

Her lips formed a small smile. "Sleep in my bed. I would feel better with the thought of you having a good rest."

Packing a bag with the contents she raided from the medical cupboard in the kitchen, she left for the barn. The drowsiness he had felt after gobbling his supper was no more. Sora stared at Eve's sleeping face in a trance of thought. He knew Yui to have been married, and though he saw no jewel on her finger, it was a piece of knowledge gained through passing talk. He was a quiet boy, one blessed with keen ears.

The thing which confused him—a thing which perplexed even the minister!—was Eve's parentage. His mother had taught him that one must be married to have a child, and those who did not, were one of foulest creatures on this earth. It could not be somebody as kind as Miss Yui. She _must_ have remarried, but to whom?

Sora had grown accustomed to Lord Subaru's visits. Initially he was terrified at the mere sight of him, and the brutal way his fists banged against the front-door would reduce him into a quivering heap. But along with the tender meats and bright vegetables he presented, he added honeycakes, especially for him. Though his brash way of talking and his quick temper were still things which made him uneasy, he deduced that any man who gave him honeycakes was one to be trusted. Miss Yui warned him frantically against this.

Perhaps he was her husband, though he saw no ring, and they did not share a lodging.

Plucking at a distant memory, he recalled the alcohol-stinking, green-eyed man who once occupied Miss Yui's bed. Husbands and wives shared beds. Could it be him?

Sora's head had begun to throb, and he could no longer see the cradle in the blackness. Fumbling for his blankets, he plopped down onto the bed, the old springs groaning underneath him. As sleep tugged at his consciousness, he realised that Eve's circumstance did not matter to him.

He would hold the Komori's in the highest regard all the same.

 **.:.**

The sweet smell of last summer's hay seeped into her nose as soon as Yui Komori entered the barn. She had fashioned a bed from scattered straw and cowhide, hoping a layer of skin would reduce his complaints of itchiness. It was a draughty outhouse, with rotting beams and cobwebbed rafters, and she was suddenly grateful for its small size and the animals heat.

Shu Sakamaki, who she had regretfully left in a fitful sleep, was awake and cringing at the hens pecking around his feet. He slit his eyes at her.

"You have some nerve to house a lord in a barn, woman."

 _And you have some nerve to make me this worried, fool,_ Yui thought, pressing her lips to keep it inside.

"The children are in the house," she said, "and I will not have them sick."

She dropped the bag beside him and kneeled, her fisted hands trembling in her lap. Shu hummed, bemused.

"You know," he drawled, his voice scratchy. "That's a nice scowl you have there... are you angry with me?"

 _"Yes!"_ Yui cried, flinging her arms in exasperation. "Yes, I am _very_ angry at you! You are as mad as they come, Shu Sakamaki—" she stopped at the lump lodged in her throat; her eyes were wet. "It is winter," she pushed on, determined to make him see fault. "You are barely dressed and you are unwell. What _possessed_ you?"

"Then dress me," he said, pointedly ignoring her question.

Yui puffed her cheeks; his eyes laughed, bluer with fever.

She rummaged in her bag and pulled out furs, blankets and shawls. She draped the lighter layers around his shoulders and over his outstretched legs, but when she reached for the furs, he swatted them away.

"No more," he said. "I am too hot."

Yui frowned. It was winter, and he was being betrayed by the heat of fever. His condition would surely worsen if he was exposed to the cold. She brushed his hair back and rested a hand upon his forehead. It had been hotter when he first arrived in his mad, stumbling glory, though the temperature was still a cause for concern. She retreated, when his hand pushed hers back.

"Leave it," he murmured, "your hand... it's cold."

"Then I will fetch snow."

He gave her a hard stare, as though challenging her to move. If he were a child, she might have said he was pouting.

"Alright." Her mouth softened into a smile. "Tell me how you feel."

"Would you like my lips to show you?"

Yui fell backwards, coughing on dust. She could feel the heat to her ears.

"How amusing... to see you blushing like a maiden. Your lewd reputation faults you, however..."

She hung her head. "D-Do not make a fool out of me."

"Then do not doctor me," he returned, his voice edged.

Yui paused and chose her words carefully. Conflict was an easy thing with Shu, but resolving it was not.

"A doctor's job is to help people," she started, "because they are concerned for their well-being. If that is the case, then yes, I am doctoring you. If you wished for it otherwise, do not come stumbling to my door, half-dead, and ask me to sit by idly. Because I will not do it—I _cannot."_

With a mouth full of words, he opened his lips to belittle her argument, but all was lost with a series of hacking coughs. Yui's gut turned to ice as she reached out to him, but he shooed her away, as he had with the furs.

Shu appeared healthy enough sitting, mindful of the common symptoms of a cold and his fevered flush. Yui knew a fever banished any appetite, and she doubted he had eaten well in days, all of which accounted for his spinning head and his limbs behaving like an uncoordinated foal's.

She prayed his fever would break tonight. He could not travel to the castle in his condition, nor could he stay lest his absence arouse suspicion.

Shu cupped a hand around her neck and brought her dangerously close. He radiated heat and her frozen skin ached to touch it, to be nearer still.

"…You want to know why I am here, you impossible creature? I am here because that man is demanding an audience with you. _Tomorrow._ He is demanding an audience because two fools are indulging a _lie."_

Yui gulped and skirted her eyes away. "I see you were not convinced—"

" _Yui,"_ he hissed through his teeth. "End it."

Hurt flashed in her eyes, and she snatched out of his grip and stood. "Please rest. I must check on the house."

She scurried from the barn and inhaled the night air, starved.

Yui did not return to the cottage immediately. She turned back to the doors, squinting through a gap in the wood. Shu remained lounged on his straw-bed, and with a great sigh, he ungracefully rose and joined his mare at her post. She blew at him and nudged her nose into his chest; his body blundered, and Yui almost marched inward to _force_ him to rest.

"Horses are far less troublesome than women," he said, circling his knuckles into her forehead. "And far more," his voice grew louder, _"obedient."_

He tossed his head to the barn doors; Yui squeaked.

"U-Um…!"

"I thought you were checking on the house? Or… could it have been a ruse to spy on me? How indecent… you were hoping to see me naked, weren't you?"

With a haughty blush, Yui tumbled into the barn. Her braid was frayed, the wispy strands framing her face frizzed. Shu found amusement in her madness, and his smirk did not shift.

"I-I would do no such thing…!"

"Are you imagining it already? Dirty girl… your face is all red."

She hid her face into her hands, groaning. "S-Shu… please, enough."

Yui heard the rustling of fabric, and when she peeked between her fingers, she saw the multitudes of shawls pooling around his ankles. He tugged his off-white nightshirt over his head; her throat went dry. Automatically, her eyes travelled along his bare skin, the candlelight shadowing the muscles in his abdomen.

 _"Pervert,"_ Shu breathed a laugh. "Close your mouth. It's not like you haven't seen a man's body before."

Yui, mortified, snapped her lips closed and shook her head. "What… what are you doing?"

"I said I was too hot," he clarified, flunking down onto the straw-bed. "If you are too prude to undress me… then I will do it myself." Shu pawed through the bag, his frown deepening at each medical appliance he stumbled across.

Yui twisted her hands. "But you will freeze!"

"Then," he said, arching an eyebrow. "Warm me with your body."

She gaped, her voice shrill. "W-With my _what?"_

"You heard well," he dismissed. "Or are you going to make a sick man ride to the tavern?"

Yui's heart jolted at the thought; she angled her chin and dug her heels into the hay.

"I... I believe the warmth of your horse will serve you well enough. You prefer them to women, after all."

Sulking, she flipped her hood and slipped out of the barn, the bitter air stealing the heat from her cheeks.

 _Tomorrow,_ she redirected her brain. _I have to think of tomorrow._

* * *

 **A/N:** I think everyone needs a little Shu x Yui on Valentine's Day ^^

 **allyelle~**


	13. Invisible Evil

**A/N:** Hi! Yes! I am alive! I'm terribly sorry for how late this chapter is, but I suppose I've been... figuring things out, in the broad sense. I would like to thank you all for your patience and for your support. I would not have the motivation to continue writing otherwise, so it is greatly appreciated :)

So, let's recap _—_ Subaru proclaims that he is the father of Yui's child, Eve, in front of the whole town. Yui is mortified, Shu is enraged, and KarlHeinz is... entertained? Shu is sick and has gone to warn Yui about an audience with his father for the following day, pushing her to admit the truth _—_ which, she does not.

Shall we continue?

 **allyelle~**

* * *

 _For neither man nor angel can discern hypocrisy,_

 _the only evil that walks invisible, except to God alone._

 _—_ **John Milton, _Paradise Lost_**

* * *

 **.:. 13 .:.**

"What's an uptight freak like you doin' in a place like this?"

Ayato threw the question at the doctor along with a cup of ale, the sour-coloured liquid doing little to tempt him into conversation.

Reiji had left the sickly lord's bedside at Subaru's request and soon found himself in the tavern, his well-groomed appearance drawing in glances of suspicion. The men _—_ and the entertaining women _—_ gave him a wide girth, but his lips still managed to curl in distaste at the clotted air. When he returned to the castle, he would scald his skin and clothes with boiling water to be rid of the place's filth.

He had eyed Subaru Sakamaki warily, unsure on whether to believe the claim of an impetuous youth. Perhaps he was in love with his ex-wife and would do anything to lessen her shame, to have everyone believe he had her for himself. Reiji had even gone as far to seek the great lord's counsel on the matter, but Karl Sakamaki did not seem to suspect any of his sons, and was requesting Yui Komori's presence to satisfy his personal curiosity.

But Subaru's confession was great, and he could not ignore it, no matter how far-fetched it seemed.

Reiji ignored the drink and zoned in on the sparkling, dark-blooded jewel pinned to Ayato's chest. He pitied the broach to be stuck on such a grimy shift; it was an injustice.

"I am sure you are well aware," he began, "that to wear a garment above your station will result in a flogging, at the very least."

Ayato was like a magpie, pickpocketing the streets for anything that glittered: the watches of officials, jewellery, a bulging pouch. Anything to elevate his status. He was not shy to state punishment, either. His mother's lashings were cruel, but the whip _—_ often commanded by his father _—_ was crueller. He would still bear the scars; all of his brothers would.

"What Yours Truly finds, he keeps," said Ayato with a self-satisfied grin; he slapped his palm over the gem as though taking a pledge. "Figured the stinking rich have enough in those mighty houses of theirs. It can't hurt 'em to lose a ruby or two."

Reiji gave him a level stare; Ayato's ears reddened.

"Jeez!" he exclaimed, waving the tray above his head. "Should have known why you'd be sniffing around here. You gonna tattle on me to that old bastard? See if I care," he scoffed, ripping the broach from his shirt. "This one's dull anyway."

"Not at all," Reiji said, "it would do you well to speak with less haste. What business would I have with stolen trinkets? It pains me to say, but I am here to request your services."

Ayato blinked, the metal tray slipping from his grip, but the clatter went unheard over the shouts of men and the snatches of music. His surprise gone, he puffed his chest like a mating bird.

"You do, do you? Well, if you think Yours Truly's prices come cheap, you can _—_ "

Reiji's eye twitched. There may have been an unshaven man before him, but his temperament remained as unreasonable as a child's.

Despite the initial impression of the doctor, he had plenty of black money at his disposal. With an abundance of flatteries and pitiable tales, he had wormed his way into a lodging at the castle, and he intended to stay until he had enough information to close his case. Reiji could have easily bought an apartment overlooking the water, or a spacious farmhouse with stretches of green. However, solitude would not sate his thirst for revenge. He could not settle into a new life when the door to the past lay open and undiscovered.

"It is not wise to take any propositions coming from a man who is incapable of fastening his own shirt," he interrupted. "Fetch me the information I desire, and the gold will be yours."

"Hah?" Ayato, affronted, flew forwards to rest his hands on the bar-top. "Like hell Yours Truly'd risk his neck for something as dumb as _eavesdropping_ _—"_

"Information is not limited to mere words. Or, should I take your attitude as a refusal?"

"No!" Sulking at his bruised pride but thinking about the piles of gleaming gold, he grumbled out, "I'll do it _—_ as if you could find somebody better than Yours Truly anyway."

"Good," Reiji said, giving a thin-lipped smile. "You have entered Yui Komori's residence before, so doing it once more will be an easy feat, wouldn't you agree?"

Ayato was stung, and Reiji could see the mechanisms working as he fumbled for an explanation. He raised a gloved-hand.

"Calm yourself," he said. "I have not yet decided where my suspicion lies. Your work will supply the answer for me, after all."

Settled, he took a long breath and poured himself a drink, casting a wary glance over his shoulder. Cordelia had the eyes of a hawk, and the claws to match. He could not be caught slacking.

"That brat all along, huh? Well, at least he figured out where to stick it." Ayato snorted into his cup. "Don't see why you need to keep sticking your nose in. That guy has already admitted to it. What's the point?"

"There is no greater truth than a confession, I am well aware. And yet..."

Reiji frowned and let his words hang. He could not understand his own uncertainty, but he could understand Ayato's. Subaru and Ayato may have never shared a civil conversation, but they often sought one another's company, whether it was for a round of drinks, a wager, or a brawl. His words showed hesitance; his words showed an inkling of family loyalty.

Abruptly, the doctor stood. "The choice is yours _—_ family or gold. Come and find me when you have _fully_ decided on your answer."

Bemused at his sudden exit, Ayato yelled at his back, "Family? Like hell I'd ever consider _him_ my family! Look, you freak, Yours Truly said he'd do it, so what's the damn problem?"

"I do not have the time, nor the patience, to waste on empty words," Reiji replied. "For a man in your position, gold will be far more loyal to you than those blue-bloods ever will. Do you wish to remain a bar-servant for the rest of your days? My, and I thought your mother had higher hopes for you." He brushed the dirt from his tailcoat and turned his head. "Heed this warning _—_ do not let your hesitance turn into her disappointment. I bid you goodnight."

Reiji dipped his chin in farewell and fled the tavern; Ayato stood glaring at his goblet before slapping it from the bar-top. Regretfully, he caught his reflection in the puddle. He wished to see a crown of gold, a collar of lace, and jewels studding every finger. Rather, he saw a common whore's son, grimy and scowling.

Frustrated, he cried, "Oi, hysteric! Grab a mop and clean this shit up already!"

 **.:.**

Cursing his brother and his own bad-tempered horse, Subaru Sakamaki set out at dawn. The clumsy hoof-prints belonging to Shu's mare had iced over, and he prayed that he hadn't been thrown and left to die in some thicket. Digging in his heels, he followed the trail to Yui's cottage, sending the snow flying. Yet when the groggy-eyed boy opened the door, he was confused.

"Kid," he said, pushing his way into the house; the baby screamed at the new cold. "You know where they are?"

Sora chewed his lower-lip, and after a moment, nodded. He ducked underneath his arm and flew out of the door, halting with a cry as he acknowledged the freezing earth below his feet. Subaru grumbled about idiocy in winter.

 _"Shoes,"_ he emphasised, tossing a pair warmed by the fire. "Snow is cold. You wanna lose your toes?"

Wide-eyed, Sora shook his head and hopped into his slippers. He led him to the barn, and just as Subaru clicked the lock, the boy tugged on his robe.

" _What?"_ he snapped, immediately wincing at his tone. Sora trembled, and Subaru knew it was not because of the cold. He forced himself to soften. "C'mon… spit it out, kid."

"M-Miss Yui is tending to a sick animal," he said, knotting his hands. "I know nothin' else, s-sir."

With a rushed bow, Sora sprinted back to the cottage, rubbing feeling into his arms. Subaru watched, biting his cheek at the sound of Eve's leaking howls.

He kicked open the barn doors with more force than he had intended, the white-winter daylight bleaching the black space. Specks of dust blurred the air. Shu's grey mare startled and pinned back her ears; Earl ignored the clamour and dove his nose into a bucket of oats.

Shu jerked his head, squinting. Yui was asleep beside him, her braid undone and falling in thick waves down her back; her hand lay slack around a plate of apples, peeled and quartered and only half-eaten. The night had sucked the juices dry, leaving them browned and shrivelled.

Yui Komori had spoilt him, he had no doubt.

Shu's blush was fleeting, and Subaru was convinced he imagined it. The embarrassed could not manage the smirk he wore, nor could the sick. He grappled between the sweetness of relief, and the sweetness of tossing a handful of hay at his face.

"Here already?" Shu said, his voice heavy with sleep. "I never pegged you for a morning person."

Subaru grinded his teeth and snarled, "And I never pegged you for a crazy bastard, yet here we are. You… you have some damn explaining to do. Fuck," he gestured to Yui's unconscious form, "look at her! You were supposed to warn her, not make more _work_ for her!"

Shu's eyes were locked onto Yui's crown where the sunrise dappled it golden. "I told you… I wanted a woman to entertain me."

Subaru slammed his fist into a wooden beam and Shu held a breath, feeling the creaks of the fragile structure.

"She ain't here to _entertain_ you!"

He massaged his neck, cringing. "Quieten down. That woman exhausted herself with worries and lectures, not on my whims."

Subaru paid a sceptical glance toward the apples, her indecently loose hair and the pale flesh of his chest. Yet as he was about to question it, Yui had begun to stir.

He crouched, knocked his knuckles against her forehead and said, "That's a nice snore you got."

Blinking away dreams, she gathered her hair and darted her head between them. "S-Subaru? It's... morning," she realised, with an edge of disappointment. As reality seeped into her brain, she inhaled sharply and jumped to her feet. "Evie _—_ Shu!" she gushed, indecisive on whom to give her fussing. "I _—_ I overslept! How could I do something so _thoughtless!"_

Without standing, Shu reached and tugged on a piece of her hair; Yui yelped and stumbled backwards.

"Stop hopping about, you stupid cricket... you're making me dizzy." He sighed and pulled his shirt over his head. It was terribly thin and reeked of livestock, and he realised his ache for a hot bath. He would feel better clean and rid of the dregs of his sickness. "She's... alright," he said, forgetting himself.

Yui's eyes grew wide. "Huh? You... you checked?"

Subaru snorted. "Probably couldn't sleep with her screams, more like."

She ignored him and pressed, "And she let you... hold her? Quietly?"

"Look, it's not a big deal."

She lowered herself into the hay and tucked her skirts. "Shu," she said, beaming, and he stared, awed at her ability to smile so bright. "Thank you very much."

"You're dressed," she continued, startling him out of his daze. "Good _—_ that means you're feeling the cold again. But just for my piece of mind..." Yui shuffled forwards, clutching the medical sack to her chest. She laid her palm across his forehead, and this time, she did not flinch at the heat. "Oh, thank goodness," she breathed, sketching the cross into the air. "No more fever. But you will not be fully recovered for a few more days. You must rest and eat well, Shu. Please, I beg you, never do something so foolish again _—_ I do not care whether I am left turning blue in the snow. You did not only worry me, but Subaru also."

Subaru, who had been challenged to a staring contest by a flock of bloodthirsty hens, shook his fists and piped, "W-Who the fuck said I was worried? I was worried about my damn position in this family if that bastard got trampled to death by that crazy beast he calls a _horse_ _—_ _"_

 _"Oi,"_ Shu frowned, offended on his horse's behalf.

"Winter spawns a whole other breed of idiot," Subaru groused, crossing his arms. "You think I got the time to be fucking worrying about all of 'em, hah?"

Yui watched them bicker, her smile never faltering. She had almost forgotten that she would be meeting with their father today. Lord Karl Sakamaki was a charming man, with a cunning, wicked mind and an icy-cold smile. Yui had never held a conversation with him before; no, she was too inferior. She saw him in snippets throughout the years: in the castle windows, watching her play, his golden eyes flashing with something she could not read. She feared him even then, shrinking into the brothers' shadows.

However, Yui had faced his ridicule before, on his very own doorstep.

 _So,_ she thought, _this is the price for love and_ _I must do it once more_ _—_ _I must do it for the rest of my days. I will be judged, I will be shamed. My letter has been a cruel teach_ _er, and my skin is thicker. I am not afraid. I am not afraid._

"What a pained expression," Shu drawled. "Are you afraid?"

"No," Yui replied, quickly. "No, I am not afraid."

"Yeah, right," Subaru grumbled, kicking away the flapping poultry; Shu, silent, raised an eyebrow.

"Y-Yes, I am _—_ afraid," she muttered, twisting her hands. "For a girl like me, to be asked to the castle... it is a little overwhelming." She blushed at the intensity of their eyes and unlocked her fingers, waving frantically. "But I am well! I... I'm going to wash. I cannot face your father with a head full of straw, can I?"

She dusted off her apron and rose, wearing a smile which, this time, did not meet her eyes.

In her wake, Shu's attention was fixed on the gentle swinging of the barn doors. Subaru unbuckled his saddlebag.

"You got a long fucking wait until summer yet," he said, tossing him a bundle of clothes, rich with wool. Shu, whose shoulders were hunched and jittering, shrugged on the layers immediately. "Look," Subaru continued, glaring down his snow-caked boots, "I'm not blind, alright? Not once have you stopped caring for her, so do yourself a favour and quit kidding yourself. I'm done with your 'I don't care about her' and 'do what you want with her' bullshit. You're a transparent bastard too. No-one'd risk their life for a woman they can barely tolerate."

Shu was quiet for a long while, and when the air became hopelessly thick, Subaru resigned, spewed a curse, and strode to fetch his horse in the dooryard.

"Check that beast of yours," he warned, "we're leaving as soon as she's ready. I ain't dragging this shit out, you hear?"

"...You're noisy," was all the eldest mumbled, but Subaru swore those blue eyes held him a little differently.

 **.:.**

Yui Komori found the two lords waiting beside the oak, their horses snuffling the snow. She was pink-skinned and clean, her twin braids swooped underneath a headdress. She wore her finest attire _—_ a skirt of deep crimson with sleeves of trimmed lace _—_ but nothing dared to outshine the craftsmanship of her letter.

Eve should have been immobilised within her swaddle, but her chubby hands always managed to sneak outward to pull on the letter's hem. Yui gently chided her and tucked her in, afraid of the biting frost.

"Give the kid to me and get on," Subaru said, transferring his reins into one hand. "We haven't got all day."

Yui shook her head and squinted upward at the sky. There was a light falling of snow, fracturing the morning.

"No," she told him, swiping at the flakes clinging to her eyelashes. "I will not be delivered like livestock. I will take the cart and drive there myself."

Shu coughed at the cold stuck in his lungs; Yui shot him a concerned glance. "That man will not be greeting you at the gates, foolish woman. He will not care whether you arrive by horseback or by donkey, nor will he care for your dress. You are being hindered by your pride."

Yui flushed and took an abrupt step forward, spooking his horse. "Do not dare say a word to me about _foolishness,_ Shu Sakamaki, because I will not hear it. Your father has stripped me of everything but my pride _—_ if I am to become stuck, I will walk. I am in no hurry to be shamed!"

Spinning on her heel, she trudged through the snow, hearing snatches of their voices behind her.

"Oi! Shit, Cricket, you _—_!"

"Enough," Shu cut in, steering his horse with impatience. "She has made her choice _—_ she does not need your fussing. Heed it, brat... that animal is not for decoration."

Yui waited until she could no longer hear their steady hoof-beats before re-entering the barn. It was warm and dim and filled with reminders of Shu. Her mood depleted at the emptiness. The cowhide was rumpled and his straw-bed was strewn; he had abandoned his slippers in favour of boots. They were splendid things made of velvet and embellished with glass beads, and Yui stowed them safely until she could return them to him.

"Come, Earl," she said, combing her fingers through his mane. "That bucket is long empty."

The door creaked open and Yui craned to see pale, thin fingers curled around the frame.

"Sora," she stifled a laugh, "is all well with you? It is early still. Sleep some more if you can."

"The sun is too bright," he said, eyeballing her headdress. "You... You're going into town? Alone?"

 _A woman is not suited to independence._

Those words, rephrased to her over and over, drummed in her skull.

 _But what must one do,_ she thought, _if they shun me into solitude?_

"Not today," she answered, beckoning him out of the cold. "Today, I am taking a trip to the castle. And so," she straightened her headpiece, "I must be respectful in my appearance."

Sora skipped to the window and scrubbed away the cobwebs, tilting his head high. "It looks so... so tall and scary from down here. A-Aren't you scared, Miss Yui?"

"A little," she shrugged, brushing a finger across her daughter's soft cheek. "But anybody would be afraid to venture into a strange place all alone, don't you think?"

"I couldn't do it," said Sora with a dramatized shiver, "not in a million years. What..." he swallowed his uncertainty, "what's it like? Have you ever been inside?"

"Once," she dragged the word out with thought, "when I was very young."

Yui remembered the day with surprising clarity. Lord Sakamaki had taken the morning ship to discuss trading routes with a foreign ambassador and could be gone for weeks at a time. Subaru, meanwhile, had been jovial at his freedom. His servants, nanny and tutor would remain in charge of his discipline, but with his temper, their fear would make them sweet.

At seventeen, it was expected that Shu accompanied his father, and although she rarely saw him in those days, she could not help but fret about his sensitive stomach on the rough seas.

 _"Papa,"_ Yui laughed, taking the vestment he was mending from his lap. The stitching was wobbly and his fingertips bloody from the pinpricks. _"Please, let me. Blood is not so easy to clean."_

Seiji Komori sighed in relief and removed his glasses, rubbing the place where they pinched his nose. _"Ah, yes. Thank you, my child."_

With a tender gaze, the minister watched his daughter work by the stove, humming as she stitched. Yui was on the cusp of womanhood, and soon she would belong to him no longer. He imagined her in a home of her own, mending her husband's clothes, her body plump with child.

 _For a child without a mother's guidance,_ Seiji thought, _you will make a fine wife._

It was the proper way and he would be happy to see her settled, but he felt a pang of sadness, as though he was locking a wild bird in a cage.

 _"Papa?"_ Yui said with a scrunch to her brow. _"That'll be the mistress for the coal money. Do we... have enough? I-If not I can do some favours for the family for the late payment_ _—!"_

 _"There is no need,"_ Seiji replied, weary, as he lifted a hollow ornament from the mantelpiece. Yui's palms drooped with the weight of the gold, and she stressed about the quality of their meals for the upcoming weeks.

 _But,_ she comforted herself, _at least we will be warm._

With a reminding knock on the door, Yui flushed and sprinted down the stairs, the mad flurry of her skirts teasing the flames.

 _"Stand by!"_

She unlocked the door and flung it open. It was not the stout, hot-tempered mistress awaiting her payment; it was Shu, half-turned towards the street.

 _"I thought you would not answer,"_ he mumbled.

 _"S-Shu?"_ Yui spluttered, unable to mask her surprise. Worry knotted her stomach—had something happened?

His eyes wandered to her hands. _"Were you planning on paying for my company? If you're so desperate to get into my bed,"_ he smirked, _"all you have to do is ask."_

Her worry gone, she swatted his chest. _"Shu,"_ she hissed, _"my father is home and you are in a church. Please be respectful."_ Thinking herself a little rude, she cleared her throat and added, _"Why on earth are you here?"_

He cocked an eyebrow. _"Disappointed?"_

 _"No, not at all!"_ She shook her head and fingered the drawstring. _"Only... surprised. Subaru said you would be gone with your father."_

Shu hummed at her words, staged a sniffle and a cough, then flashed a grin. _"It would have been an inconvenience to infect the entirety of the crew. That man could not risk a sullied reputation, after all... what a shame."_

 _"Oh, you're terrible."_ Yui felt the tension roll out of her body. Her shoulders slumped, and she laughed. _"Won't you come in? It has been far too long, Shu. Papa will be glad to see you well."_

He ignored her invitation and nodded down to the stitching stuffed into her pocket. _"...What's this?"_ he drawled, _"Practising at being a good wife?"_ Shu gave a derisive snort and rocked back on his heels. _"How worthless. Come,"_ he said, seizing her wrist, _"and entertain me. You will have little time to do so when you are lapping up your husband's demands like a dog."_

Confused, Yui frowned at his sudden burst of sourness. She uttered her goodbyes and followed him to his horse. She was still a beautiful, wild thing, but a filly with little experience of the world. Shu's horse was his most treasured gift, and even when the animal nipped Yui's skin, the only words which passed his lips were— _"Hah, jealous thing."_

Yui had travelled to the castle many times, and this time she thought no different. She imagined her afternoon passing by the riverbank, slipping and sliding on the ice with Subaru whilst Shu dozed nearby. Then, when the sun lowered, they would retreat to the heat of the stables nursing their bruised, frozen limbs, sipping hot ale which Subaru's tantrum had awarded.

 _"Shu?"_ Yui said, puzzled, lagging a few paces behind. _"W-We're going inside? Why?"_

 _"You really are a troublesome woman,"_ he sighed, pushing open the great, iron-cladded doors. _"I am cold. I am not the kind of man who will sit outside in midwinter and listen to your nonsense. Go and find that brat if you both want to die like fools."_

Uncomfortable, Yui toed the snow. _"No... I just... didn't think I would be allowed inside, is all. I do not want to get you in trouble with your father."_

Shu was silent for a beat before repeating, _"It is cold. Come inside."_

Some would have been awed by the untouchable ceilings, the maze-like hallways and glittering grandeur. However, Yui Komori was not impressed by its magnitude. She saw wasted potential, unnecessary luxuries, and in its ringing emptiness, a profound sense of loneliness.

 _"What an interesting face,"_ said Shu, already settled into a chair adjacent to a cabinet of taxidermy. _"Are you angry?"_

 _"Not angry... more sad,"_ Yui replied, her eyes exploring the space. _"It saddens me that a single pair of hands could own something so... so expansive! Yet it is home to so few. You could house an entire village within these walls, but you do not, and they are left to die in winter. Who decided it was fair... who decided anything was fair and right in this world?"_

Shu looked pleased, like he had caught a rabbit in a snare.

 _"Hypocrite,"_ he sneered. _"Supposedly... this God of yours decides what is fair and right in this world, yet you stand there and frown upon His distribution? Your worship is fickle... better you accept that He is a cruel ruler rather than a loving one. Otherwise... who are your prayers for? God, the devil... I see no difference. Neither change what is good and bad in this world... you have to do that yourself."_

Yui followed his gaze to an oil-painting. It captured a young, fair-haired woman with an infant on her lap, his pudgy hands bunching the black silk of her skirts. They had the same eyes; his laughed, hers guarded.

 _"Your mother was very beautiful,"_ Yui said, but Shu was quiet. She gave a defeated smile and took up the neighbouring chair. _"Shu,"_ she started, _"It must be very lonely living here... I'm sorry."_ He turned, unsure of her apology. _"Even when I am married_ , _I would never abandon you. You are my family, Shu, you and Subaru both. I will always stay by your side... for as long as you will allow it."_

Shu blinked. _"Family?"_

Yui nodded. _"I love my papa, and I am grateful for everything he's done for me... but, without my mother, I suppose many wouldn't consider us a normal family. People think I am strange and unruly because I haven't had a woman's teachings. But... since I met you... I've always felt accepted. We've made a family of our own over the years, don't you think?"_

"Miss Yui?"

Yui snapped out of her reverie and smiled, unfurling the bridle from its hook.

"Come, Sora. Will you help me fetch the cart? Earl is quite the grumpy thing when faced with the prospect of work."

 **.:.**

Her journey to the castle was time consuming, but uneventful. Yui was thankful for the frozen snow as soft, pillowy drifts would conceal ditches and trap her wheels. Although she had insisted on walking if such an inconvenience occurred, she feared her daughter being exposed to such bitterness for an extended period of time. Still, she was shivering beneath her cloak, and Yui hoped Lord Sakamaki would not punish her by holding their meeting in a room without a hearth.

She pulled the reins and came to a halt in the courtyard. Stable boys were on guard, yet none rushed to help her dismount. They merely giggled at the sight of her shabby cart and swore when left with the task of leading away her stubborn shire. Yui shot them a concerned glance, a silent plea not to whip him.

"This way if you will, Mistress."

The castle remained largely unaltered. It was _too-big_ in Yui's mind, like herself wearing her father's clothes. It was impractically large, and Yui felt awkward surrounded by such wealth. Even dressed in her finest gown, she looked no finer than the serving-girls dipping in-and-out of each room, fighting to be invisible. Yui wished she could do the same, though Eve's cries would not allow it.

It would have been some comfort for one of the brothers to have stalled in the courtyard, then she would not have had to face the mass of judgement alone.

 _But this is not their battle to fight,_ Yui thought. _It is yours alone._

"Mistress?" repeated the servant, giving her a curious stare.

Yui blushed. "Y-Yes, I am coming."

She was led into a room with a long banquet table hosting numerous men: lords, wealthy merchants, town officials. This was the great hall _—_ the brothers had once explained _—_ where the family entertained. Silver goblets studded the table along with platters of meat and cheese, their greases glossing the men's lips.

Yui spotted her father amongst them, his hands drawn in prayer. Shu was sat beside Lord Sakamaki at the head, dodging each question with a hum of indifference. Somewhat, the space reminded her of the church, with its coloured-glass and cherubs moulded into the stone arches.

"Mistress Komori as requested, my lord."

All eyes shot up to meet the woman and her misbehaving infant in the doorway. Yui felt like she was being held underneath a burning-hot wick and started to sweat, reversing and thumping her back against the door. She saw blue, brown, gold eyes—but not red.

"Where is Su—Master Subaru?"

Lord Sakamaki clapped. "Such haste, girl! You would not grace us men with a _'good morrow'_ before delivering your demands?" The men spluttered with laughter, but with their superior's thoughtful gaze, they soon quieted. "Subaru... ah, he possesses too much of his mother's blood. Their minds are controlled by whims of the heart rather than rationale. It can become an unseemly sight... and we do not need such company in today's meeting, wouldn't you agree?"

Yui did not know whether this was a question she should answer. Yet, as she observed further, she realised no seat had been made for her. She stood out, like a red rose in blossoms of white. They had made it abundantly clear that a woman would never be made welcome at a man's table.

Their attitude jolted her, and she responded, "If... If you believe your son as guilty as I, my lord, then shouldn't all be present in the process of judgement?"

"For a peasant girl," Karl Sakamaki began, reclining in his chair, "your words are admirable. Say, Reverend," he turned to Seiji Komori, whose cup trembled in his grip. "Is her education your doing?"

"S-Self-taught mainly, my lord."

"A smart girl," he said, "a girl with many prospects?"

"O-Once, sir."

"Once," he repeated, "and, my dear fellow, does it not disappoint you to see your own flesh and blood standing before you, shamed with the devil's stain?"

"Sir—" Yui piped, wanting to banish her father's discomfort, but she was cut off with a glint of gold.

"A woman will speak when spoken to, do you understand, _girl?"_

Yui lowered her eyes and fisted the overflow of Eve's blankets.

 _Quiet,_ she told herself. _A wise woman always picks her battles._

"When his mind is not clouded with rage," Lord Sakamaki continued, standing now, his shoes clacking the tiles with each pace. The hearth cast him in long shadows, like splashes of ink. "My son is a smart boy. Master Subaru and your daughter have been... _closely linked_ for many years. Do you have any reason to believe this claim to be true, Reverend?"

Seiji blanched and stumbled over his words. "M-My lord, such a question—!"

"Sir, my father is uncomfortable," Yui pushed on. "Please remember that I am the one under your scrutiny."

Karl Sakamaki spun on his heel, his hair fluttering about his person. He never angered, Yui noticed. Rather, there was ice in his eyes and an edge to his smile. He was always collected, and it unnerved her.

"Quite right," he said, his hands tied behind his back. "We are here to determine the parentage of your bastard. In order for us to do so, we need to see their face, do we not? Come, girl. Give them to me."

Panic raced through her veins. Instinctively, Yui created distance and clenched Eve tight to her chest. The baby wailed in pain, but Yui would not release.

"N-No... never."

Lord Sakamaki snapped his fingers and a handful of servants descended on her. Yui ducked out of their reach, but her poor agility only bought her seconds. Two prised her arms away from her chest while another grappled the infant out of her embrace. Frantic, she thrashed to escape their grip, to bolt and reclaim her child, but their strength would not relent. Her breaths came out quick and sharp.

"No! Eve! _Evie!"_ Yui shrieked, watching, helpless, as she was transferred into the lord's arms. "Let me _go!"_

Karl Sakamaki exhaled, ashamed at the scene. "If only it was so easy to prise his name from your lips."

He peeled back the layers of fur concealing her birthmark. "How peculiar..." he muttered, not with disgust, but interest. For a moment, his eyes flickered towards Shu, whose attention was focused on the groves running through the oak. The muscle in his jaw tensed.

"Behold," the lord announced, lifting the infant above his head. "The devil's own child!"

The men gasped, scowled and wrinkled their noses.

"She has her mother's letter on her skin! How can it be?"

"Ugly! Disgusting!"

"This is God's intervention at work! The thing is damned!"

 _"Leave her!"_ Yui cried, clawing the air from her crumpled heap. "All of you... take a look inside yourselves! God will only find a letter as scarlet as mine!"

Suddenly, a chair screeched against the stone.

"Master Shu?" A merchant called.

His expression was blank, but his complexion was pale. "Stop," he said. "You have had your humiliation. Are you satisfied?"

"S-Shu," Yui whispered, her voice hoarse.

Shu did not spare her a glance. "You are causing the woman distress. Hand her back the child... my ears cannot withstand any more of this shrieking."

When the servants did not release Yui immediately, he gave them a terrible look. "...What are you waiting for?"

Their heads darted between the two lords, awaiting confirmation. "M-My lord?"

With hesitance, Karl Sakamaki nodded. "Very well."

Shu took the unsettled child and made his way over to Yui's form. She was a pitiful sight to behold; the delicate lace adorning her dress had torn during the struggle, her skin raw from the men's rough hands. Her headpiece sat lopsided and her cheeks were tracked with tears. He would see many women like this when leaving the tavern, crouched in the darkness of an alley, soiled from a drunk's impatience.

Shu extended his hand and Yui looked at it, bemused.

He pursed his lips and turned away. "Take it and stand... My hand is growing tired."

She accepted and gave a sad, grateful smile. "T-Thank you..."

Lord Sakamaki sunk into his chair and stared down into his swilling goblet. "Tell me, girl. What is it that you hope to gain from this? No smart woman acts out of love. Do you wish for money? A title, perhaps?"

"No... nothing," Yui answered, flexing her fingers. "I do not claim to be a smart woman... A woman in love is never smart. I wish to live a quiet life with my child... I wish for _peace."_

"Ho!" An official cheered. "The criminal wishes to be left in peace?"

"Fool! Your interrogations will only cease once you have named him!"

"As you can see," Lord Sakamaki cooled the growing fire, "Our time is precious. Now, you have a sharp tongue, girl… a dangerous thing on a woman. Better you use it wisely to speak of your crimes! Is my son the father of this child?"

Yui corrected her composure and scrubbed her eyes, settling Eve into the crook of her elbow.

"You are a man with many sons, Lord Sakamaki. It is wrong to expect me to admit to my sins when you do not acknowledge your own."

Sensing the men had little else to discuss apart from her disgusting nerve, Yui bowed and fled, but Shu caught her arm.

"Stupid woman," he whispered. "You do not ask for peace by destroying it."


	14. The Lady of May

**A/N:** Hello! I am truly sorry for how long it has taken me to update. I never imagined it would take me a whole eleven months, but I lost interest in writing for a while and nothing I produced was worthy to be published.

So, thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy the chapter.

 **allyelle~**

* * *

 _I thought that spring must last forevermore,_

 _for I was young and loved, and it was May._

 **—** **Vera Brittain**

* * *

 **.:. 14 .:.**

Seiji Komori adored weddings. He adored the love, the smiles, the merriment! He adored casting the tie between two souls, being the matchmaker for a happy, long, prosperous life. Years later, he would often see the product of his matches sitting in his school room, or his church. It was a rewarding job, and nothing had made the old clergyman happier than conducting the vows for his only child… however the fate of the union.

He did not feel dissimilar now, flicking through the pages of his sermon. The May sunbeams came in magic hues through the stained-glass, warm against Seiji's fingers. Apple blossoms littered the church yard like confetti, blackened scraps trodden throughout the aisles. A broom was Sora's constant companion, sweeping and sweeping until his hands blistered.

The wedding of Master Shu and Lady Mirai was the event of the year. No expense had been spared; the village was blooming with colour, the sweet scent of flowers refreshing all stenches of life. For the past month, Seiji had been the ear to gushing wives, weeping maidens and to grumbling labourers. No greater delight, envy or effort had been invested into the people since the wedding of Lord Karl Sakamaki and Lady Christa over two decades prior.

Master Shu was a good man, and he would be glad to see him finally wed. Yui had expressed her delight on her last visit, and Seiji wondered whether she would make an appearance. He was one of her oldest friends and there was nothing more she adored than the celebrations of May Day.

The spectacle of his daughter's letter faded, like winter melts into spring. Other gossips took its pedestal, but still she remained the girl with the scarlet letter, the whore, the wild thing in the woods. But May was a time for forgiveness, for new beginnings, and for hope. She deserved to bathe in the sunshine after a cruel winter, no matter her sins.

"Dearly beloved," Seiji began, his voice booming in the empty church room. "We are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and woman in holy matrimony…"

The streak of sun was nearing central, cutting his body in half.

Midday; it was almost time.

 **.:.**

Five months had passed since the birth of her daughter and Yui Komori had settled into a mundane routine of early starts and late nights. She attended to the whims of Eve, visited the market once a week, made pennies from her needlework, and from the warmer weather, took daily strolls through the forest. It was a wonderland in spring; green leaves canopied above their heads, allowing spots of light to shine through; flowers shook off the cold and sprouted beneath their feet; the riverbank bubbled, and orange fish leaped.

Eve had grown and fattened, making her mother's arms ache. Her face was bright with new personality, her teethless smile full of mischief. She had begun to crawl and grab, and her curiosity was often dangerous. Sora found entertainment in teaching her words, and she would mirror in strange, yet similar sounds.

Spring was always a time when Yui was at her happiest. She no longer shivered when the sun vanished from the sky, the world was rich with colour, and her belly was frequently full with the fruits from the new harvest. This year, however, she could not relax. Many months had passed since her visit to the castle, but nothing had occurred—no punishment, no threats… everything was _calm._ She was playing a waiting game, always sick with worry, always trying to silence her beating heart. It was torturous.

Suddenly, there was a series of drumming thumps followed by a sharp cry; Yui exhaled and opened the door.

"Subaru," she said, weary. "Please do not knock so loud. You will wake her."

Yui rushed to the cot to calm her screaming, red-faced child.

Subaru hovered in the doorway and scanned the cottage: across the piles of unfinished needlework on the rocker, its hinges squeaking in the open-door breeze. The unmade bed, the dishes stacked underneath the cupboard ready to be washed in the stream. Yui's frock was splotched in baby-stains, her long hair hastily thrown into a spilling bun. Subaru, meanwhile, had spent his morning being bathed, groomed, dressed, lectured on his behaviour and given a list of rules to abide by for the ceremony.

"Oi. You plannin' on going looking like that?"

Yui retreated from the cradle and looked down upon herself. "Sorry?"

Subaru closed the door, wishing he had the ability to slouch lest prise the buttons from his waistcoat. "The wedding," he elaborated, but gathered no response. "Fuck. You're coming, right?"

Yui grimaced and busied herself in the kitchen. "No, no, I am not. It would not be wise." She turned and strained a smile. "But do not let my absence dampen your day, Subaru. A wedding… oh, what a wonderful occasion! I wish them every happiness."

"Yeah, well, I didn't come to check," he scoffed. "I just wanna get this over with. Here—"

Out of his saddlebag he withdrew a bundled cloth; the fabric was dampened by the hot steam wafting delicious smells of custard and candied-apple. A pie, freshly stolen from the castle's oven.

"Thank you…" she murmured, though she possessed no appetite.

Subaru grunted and stepped to the door.

"Wait!" Yui exclaimed. He turned and eyed her, uneased by her rush of panic. "Did… did he…"

"What? Spit it out. I haven't got all day."

Yui gave another tiny, fractured smile. "Nothing."

Subaru hesitated before he spoke. "He ain't happy about this, y'know. Marriage… is just another bar for our cage. Or," he smirked, "another nail for our coffin, depending on the bitch."

The door slammed, and Yui cringed at Eve's budding shrieks.

 **.:.**

A hooded figure wove through the market-streets, the late-spring heat high and rippling the festival's colours. He walked with slow and aimless footing, uninterested in any of the wares thrust at him.

Shu Sakamaki was wanted in the tavern, for a groom-to-be should be guzzling wine, flirting with whores and making merry during his last hours of bachelorhood. Yet, each second felt closer to eternal incarceration. He would rather be alone, unknown and forgettable, listening to the ballads of lutes.

"Come get ye flowers! Daffodils, roses, tulips!" The flower-merchant beckoned at a wealthy gentleman and his sulking wife. "You, sir! Won't you buy some of these pretty wares? They're sure to make your lovely lady smile!"

Shu tugged his hood downwards and stared at the tiny blue clumps of forget-me-nots.

 _"_ _Here,"_ Yui Komori had once said, on a May Day during their youth. She gave the merchant a penny and a smile and plucked a single bud. _"They match your eyes, and now we match a little, see?"_

She stretched and tucked the flower behind his ear.

Yui was once the village treasure, and most years, crowned the queen of May, sitting on her throne of blooms and throwing bashful kisses to all who could catch them. He had liked to watch her cast her ribbon and dance around the maypole, round and round, smirking at the occasional glimpse of thigh. Yui had worn her hair long, half-braided and woven in a rainbow of flowers. Her dress was thin and as white as a pearl; she was goddess-like.

 _"_ _Won't you dance with me, Shu?" s_ he had asked, flushed and beaming, kindly rejecting the offers from many young men.

 _"_ _No…"_ he said, pushing a reluctant, cursing Subaru to dance in his place. " _I can see your legs much better from over here."_

Her expression was forlorn, but at the time, he hadn't cared. Dancing was bothersome and the celebrations were noisy. He had taken shade in an awning and watched from afar. If he had known the girl's freedom was impermanent, would he still have refused?

Suddenly, Shu could feel the heat of another's eyes. _Strange,_ he thought, for a man concealed beneath a cloak. Nevertheless, he turned, expecting Subaru to have seen through his disguise, but it was not.

There Yui Komori stood, a decade wearier, with a face as grave as stone. All of that unbridled freedom was gone; her hair was scarfed and tied, her dress heavy and brown. She was not the spirited, frolicking creature he once knew.

"Shu—"

"You should not have come," he snapped.

"I should not," she replied, her body jerked closer by the bustling crowd. "But I wanted to see the flowers. It has been a long winter."

"There are flowers in every inch of this street," Shu said, "and still you do not smile."

She smiled, then. "Forget-me-nots," she said, purchasing a bunch. She tucked one into his breast pocket and handed him the remainder. "You are a kind man, Shu… show her some of it."

Her hand lingered on his breast, hesitant, as though the fabric was the skin of a poisonous fruit. The infant she carried stared up at him, blinking, its limbs fighting to escape the swaddle of blankets. Perhaps it was envious of the vibrant flowers he beheld. He offered them, but Eve thrashed them away. No, she was curious about the rose-coloured jewel circling his pinky finger.

"You have no need for such a thing anymore," Yui muttered, prising Eve's hand away.

Shu sighed. "Stupid woman… has the pollen damaged your brain? One does not wear a wedding band on their pinky. So," he drawled, "I'll wear this crude thing… a while longer."

"It is not right!" Yui protested.

Shu, finding no interest in extending the argument, turned away. "If you are done admiring this fickle sight, take the child and leave." His voice was cold. "I do not want you here."

His words stung not because of their cruelty, but because of the memory it triggered.

The night before her own wedding, Yui Komori recalled being fiercely afraid. She lay in bed, ruled by her thoughts. _This is the last time I shall sleep alone. My sleep shall be secondary to my husband's desire. I shall be with child within the year, and I could be dead like my dear mother._

Yui could stand it no more; she slipped to the floor and pulled on garments at random. Choked with tears, she ran to the only place she knew. The forest, with its soothing, nocturnal whispers and trees huddled together like kin, the air was still. Yui slumped down to the floor, dirtying her nightdress in a puddle of leaves. She had made her choice to marry, but decided to allow herself a night to be afraid; a night to wail for her freedom and innocence.

The leaves crunched, startling her.

 _"_ _They say brides are to weep on their wedding day,"_ a voice droned. _"This is… premature."_

Yui's mouth worked, but could make no answer. She could scarcely decipher the man in the dark-green blackness, but she could recognise that voice anywhere. Shu Sakamaki, rarely horseless, towered over her, his clothes reeking of all the smells familiar to the tavern: smoke, perfume, ale. He took up a seat against the opposite tree.

Neither spoke for a time, but his silent company calmed her.

 _"Talk, woman,"_ he finally said. _"Or I will head home and leave you and your cries to attract the attention of a bear. He will not be as good a listener as I."_

Yui swallowed. _"I… I am afraid,"_ she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees. _"What if Reiji is unkind to me? I have heard all sorts of wedding-night horrors from the ladies about town… Oh, Shu, I have never even been kissed! I wanted it to be… special."_

Yui blushed once she had finished. Aloud, her fears were child-like. No woman in this world could hope to live a fairytale. When had she convinced herself that she, a mere peasant, could do so? She had brought this anguish upon herself. But… her father was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Shu stifled a laugh. Frowning, Yui leapt to her feet.

 _"_ _Shu…!"_

 _"_ _Come here,"_ he commanded, and she stumbled over, ripping her stockings on an upright branch. She knelt before him. _"You claim to be an innocent woman, but you came here seeking my lips, didn't you?"_

 _"_ _I did no such thing—!"_

 _"_ _Hah…"_ he breathed, and Yui could detect the sour stench of alcohol on his breath as he arched forward. He touched his palm to her cheek, his lips grazing the hollow of her hand. _"A kiss…"_ he whispered, _"is a lord special enough?"_

Her insides were wild, her skin hot, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Shu clasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, running the pad along her lower-lip. Close, she could see the navy glimmer of his eyes and the moon-cast shadows dancing across his features.

 _"Are you still afraid?"_

 _"_ _Never of you."_

He kissed her, tentative and tender, a kiss not fuelled by the ache of desire, but by the transient joy of beholding something soon to be lost forever.

They separate when salty liquid runs between their lips. Yui, ashamed of her weeping, darts her eyes away. Shu had not calmed her, after all. His kiss had driven her mind into further unease.

 _"_ _P-Please,"_ she implored, trembling, _"do not come tomorrow. I do not want you there."_

He had tempted her with a kiss and so he could tempt her resolve.

She wriggled the rose-quartz jewel from her finger and returned it to him, placing it in his palm like a pearl on the tongue of an oyster.

 **.:.**

The church bells chimed after midday, its ringing travelling to the furthest corner of the village. Lord and Lady Sakamaki were married. Yui Komori heard the echos of laughter, clapping, and the burgeoning ballads of lutes from the alleyway where she hid, but what she could not escape was Eve's relentless weeping.

"I know, my darling," Yui soothed. _"...I know."_


End file.
